Return to Me
by StrangeBlaze
Summary: Mirkwood story. The thoughts & actions of Legolas's wife & royal family right before, during, & after the Fellowship. Might be marysue but I'm not really sure what constitutes one, so you decide.CH9In which they finally arrive in Imladris
1. Default Chapter

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Disclaimer—I own nothing, except perhaps Master Greenleaf's libido…in my dreams! Muhuhahaha.

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Author Notes—If you don't like them, feel free to skip ahead! 

This is my first LOTR fan fiction story. This story is about Legolas and his family right before he goes off to join the Fellowship. I am addicted to "young-Legsie" and Mirkwood stories but I do not intend to do as some of them do and show Thranduil as an abusive monster (he does have a bit of a temper though). I have read the books, but please excuse any discrepancies or differences for the sake of the story (hopefully you know how random plot bunnies can be!). This might be a "Mary Sue" but I'm not exactly sure what one is, so you decide. But I PROMISE that Lady Sorayaiel will NOT be joining the Fellowship!!

I intend for this to be a first draft so feedback is appreciated. If there are really terrible mistakes, let me know! Also realize that this is totally my own invention and if some players are out of character, forgive me and as I am developing this more I will try to fix it.

Also, please forgive (and help!) me if my Elvish is terrible, I'm just learning.

In further chapters I will explain better the circumstances of how Sorayaiel and Arahil joined Thranduil's family. I have not been able to find a reference to Legolas's mother or siblings, so if anyone knows about a source or something that tells us about them, please let me know. For my purposes I have just made them up.

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Rating—PG-13 because there will probably be violence and maybe mild swearing, and suggestion of sexual content (though no actual descriptions of sex). I have read some of the stuff Tolkien wrote regarding Elven sexuality, but some of it is going to be ignored to fit my story.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU (I PROMISE!!)

Return to Me (That will almost definitely change! I am terrible at titles!)

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"My lord," the blonde elfling-messenger bowing before my foster-father muttered. He was young, probably not even thirty years old yet, and he was petrified. His whole body shook, a rare display of emotion that plainly showed his terror at evoking the wrath of King Thranduil of Mirkwood.

Finally everyone was paying attention. Previously the drab court meeting had been nearly unbearable. All the king's advisors were there with the exceptions of my husband (the king's son) and our brothers. Though he had somehow evaded his princely duties, he was, of course, there at the meeting because of the strong mental bond between us. Legolas was always there, his consciousness ever present in the back of my mind even when he was not physically near me. Right now I knew he was out on the archery range, as he often was. He was the best archer Mirkwood had ever seen; possibly he was the best archer in all of Middle-Earth, and he was not even three thousand years old yet. At this moment, he was not even bothering himself to care about this boring meeting in which I was stuck. 

"Speak up, _mellon nîn,_" my Adar said gently, placing a hand on the younger elf's shoulder.

Despite the comforting gesture, the messenger only trembled more. "Your majesty," he began, "it is¼ Gollum. He has¼ escaped."

All those present at court visibly flinched, myself included. In my mind I felt Legolas snap to attention at last. Ada's fingers tightened knuckle-white on the elf-child's shoulder as fury swam into his icy-blue eyes. He closed them briefly, trying to gain control of himself, but his posture remained stiff, including his tight grip on the child. Ada's face was reddening all the way up to the pointed tips of his ears.

He managed to keep his voice even as he said, "Ai, Elbereth, how did this happen?"

"We-we do not know, sire. S-several guards were k-killed," the elfling said in a strained voice. He was still shaking uncontrollably, tears threatening to overspill down his cheeks. 

I had been on the receiving end of Father's anger enough to understand how frightened he was. I knew they would get nowhere, except perhaps a dislocated shoulder, if the conversation continued in this manner. I decided to intervene.

"Adar," I said softly, emerging from my place amongst the stateselves and advisors gathered in the room. "You are hurting him."

Ada ripped his gaze away from the other elf's face to stare into mine. For a moment fear flashed into my heart at the sight of the blue flame in his eyes. On the archery range, Legolas started in surprise. Ada's face softened as he realized who was speaking, and I felt my husband's relief as strongly as my own.

"Sorayaiel," my father said quietly. He blinked, looking from me to the cowering messenger as if seeing him for the first time. He immediately released the poor elfling, who slumped and grabbed his injured shoulder. "I am sorry," Ada continued. "It is not your fault, you are only the messenger."

The elfling managed a weak smile as he tried to massage away the pain.

"Do you know anything else of this matter?" the king asked.

"Not much, my lord," the messenger said. "The guards believe he was aided in his plans. Captain Nurhoth sent a patrol to search for him, but they have thus far found nothing."

Ada cupped the boy's chin with a slender hand. "Thank you, _ pen-neth. _Please tell Captain Nurhoth to report back to me in an hour. You may go."

The young elf placed his right hand over his heart as he bowed, and said, "Yes, your majesty." He walked out very quickly.

"Aarandien," Ada said, turning to an older elf nearby. "Take several more _edhil_ with you and join the patrol. I want that miserable creature found! Everyone else is dismissed."

Ada turned to me as Aarandien and the other elves obeyed orders. I knew he was still very angry but now his face showed nothing. "Sorayaiel, _sell nîn_," he said. "Will you please fetch your husband and brothers? I think I will need the advice of my sons in this matter."

That stung a little. "My sons," he had said, not "my children." It meant that while I was capable enough of advising him in mundane, day-to-day court matters, I was not good enough to aid him in important matters of state such as this. This had happened before. I was, after all, only a daughter, and not even by blood, at that. It also did not help that I had married my youngest foster-brother; in fact, it probably made my position worse. I had accepted the status of things as they were, but it still hurt to be left out. 

So, I said, "Yes, Adar," and with a small nod and the customary closed-hand-over-heart _edhellen_ greeting, set off to find the princes.

*****

My skirts rustled like the leaves of our beloved forests as I walked brusquely down the corridor in search of the princes of Mirkwood. Legolas, I knew, was already on his way back to the palace, as it was getting dark. That left the other two.

I found Arahil in the library reading, as usual. "Ada wishes to see you," I said.

"What vexes you, sister?" Arahil asked, concern in his brown eyes. Though he was not bonded to me as strongly as Legolas was, Arahil was still very intuitive to my feelings. He was my older brother in blood as well as name; King Thranduil and Queen Aranel adopted both of us when we were very young. Truly, no one had ever mistaken us for their biological children: our hair and eyes were dark as the night whilst that of our adoptive father, mother, and brothers was as light as the sun shining through the trees. We had the same smile, the same countenance. In fact, we looked so much alike that some people thought we were twins, though Arahil was nearly twenty years older than I. The only elves who looked more alike were Lord Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and their younger sister Arwen. They were all raven-haired as well.

"Gollum has escaped," I replied. 

Arahil's eyes widened and he stood up quickly. "Valar," he said, shaking his head. "I _knew_ we did not have enough guards on that vile halfling! I assume Adar is displeased?"

A smile played at the corners of my mouth. "You could say that."

Arahil groaned. "How angry is he?"

I told him what had happened in court, including how Ada had nearly dislocated the youth's shoulder. He winced. "I guess I had better get down there," he said. He walked toward the door.

"Do you know where is Mellossë?" I asked.

He stopped. "He was with his brother earlier."

"He is not with Legolas now," I replied.

"And where is your husband now?" Arahil asked, raising one eyebrow. It never failed to amaze or amuse him that Legolas and I knew one another's every thought.

"He is coming back from the archery range. He is nearly in the palace."

Arahil smiled. "I do hope that I shall one day be joined with another as fully as you are with our foster-brother."

I went to him and touched his face. "You will, my brother. One day." And I believed that. Arahil was sensitive, bookish and shy. He spoke little, and when he did speak it was usually to say something important. He was painfully shy around females especially, but I had seen one or two ladies giving my handsome brother meaningful looks in court. If he would only get the courage, he could probably pursue anyone he wanted.

He smiled slightly and went out the door, his long dark hair whipping out behind him. I went upstairs to my bedchamber. Legolas was already there, and changed out of his dirty clothes and into more courtly brown robes. He was sitting on the bed putting on his boots when I entered the room. He looked up at me and smirked, causing my heart to flutter, as it usually did when I looked into his sky-blue eyes.

"I chose the perfect meeting to miss, did I not?" he said, chuckling softly. He began to redo the braid on the left side of his head. Almost all of the elven warriors had long hair, and most of us braided it on the sides to keep it out of the way when shooting a bow. It had become the way most of us wore it in court as well.

I sat down on his right side and unraveled the remnants of the other braid. He always managed to mess up his hair when he was shooting. "Yes, you did," I replied, separating his golden tresses into strands so I could redo it for him. I was faster than he and had finished my side before he was even halfway done with his. I shifted to his other side, and he let me finish. 

"You take such good care of me, _cauneth nîn_," he said, kissing my forehead. He pulled me into his lap and smoothed my long hair to one side, then kissed me softly on the lips.

For a moment I leaned my forehead against his, closing my eyes and wallowing in the love I felt emanating from both of us. Then I cupped his chin in my hand and said, "You would be lost without me, _caun nîn, _as I would be without you." I kissed him and stood up. "Let us find Mellossë and get back before Ada wonders where _you two_ are." I could not keep some bitterness from creeping into my voice.

Legolas cocked his head to one side, still sitting. "You are thinking that Adar is going to leave you out again," he said.

I had known I would not be able to hide it from him. "Yes," I replied. "He always does. I know he loves me but sometimes I feel that he does not consider me good enough—"

"That is not true," my husband said, standing now. "He is merely a bit overprotective of you. He does not want to involve you in anything that could be dangerous."

"Because I am female?" I asked, becoming angry. 

"Well, yes," Legolas replied, placing his slender finger over my lips when I began to protest. "But also because he thinks he failed to protect your parents and my _naneth_. He blames himself for their deaths."

"But none of them were his fault!" I protested. "Everyone knows that."

"I think, deep down, that Adar knows that too," he said. "But still he feels guilty."

"Well, he need not take it out on me," I said, walking out of the room. 

Legolas followed me out of the room, taking my hand in his. "If you wish it of me, I will say something to him."

"No," I said, looking up at him as we walked. My feelings of anger had subsided into sadness. "I do not wish to cause him more anger or stress."

He looked at me as if he wanted to say something else on the subject, but settled for, "_Im meleth-le_." He said it so softly that if I had not been an elf I would not have heard him. His thoughts were guarded as well, which I did not like.

I did not want to fight with him, so I merely said, "I love you too, my Greenleaf," and let the entire matter drop as we went to find Mellossë.

*****

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______Elvish translation

Mellon nîn—my friend

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Adar—father

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Ada—Dad, Daddy

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Pen-neth—young one

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Edhil—elves

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Sell nîn—my child

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Edhellen—elvish, elven

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Cauneth nîn—my princess

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Caun nîn—my prince

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Naneth—mother

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Im meleth-le—I love you


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer--once again, I own nothing. Rated PG-13 

Aah this poor story...if anyone happens to stumble across the poor thing, please review!! 

I will try to get the formatting to work better...for some reason everything works except for italics and ellipses.

And now, Chapter 2

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Fifteen minutes later we were all sitting in the stateroom with Ada at the head of the table. Legolas had insisted that I stay, much to Ada's chagrin. He was also keeping me completely out of his thoughts, which he seldom did. Needless to say, I was very angry. I had no idea what he was planning, and that made me nervous.

Legolas sat on the right side of the table to Ada's left, with me to my husband's left. Across from us were Mellossë and Arahil, with Nurhoth, the captain of the Mirkwood guard, next to Arahil. 

Captain Nurhoth and the search-party had found not one trace of the creature Gollum, whom Mirkwood had been charged with keeping. He was a foul, miserable creature who spent all day moaning about something called his "preciousss." He seemed to have multiple personalities. I had never heard anything creepier in my 2,927 years on Arda than that creature carrying on a conversation with himself. It was enough to send chills up one's spine. 

The Istar Mithrandir had told me some things about Gollum, or Smèagol as he called him, last time he had been in Mirkwood. Mithrandir was a friend to both Ada and Lord Elrond of Imladris. It was he who had asked Ada to keep Gollum, because he knew it would be very hard for the creature he called a "fallen halfling" to escape from our well-guarded lands. And he had been right, until now.

"This is grave news indeed," Ada said, rubbing his temples.

"We know he must have had help, sire," Nurhoth said. "But from whom or what we do not know."

Mellossë snorted. "As if we do not already have enough problems," he muttered bitterly. "With these foul spiders everywhere and orcs traipseing about as they please. I am tired of this darkness that is swallowing Mirkwood!"

"DO NOT CALL IT THAT!" Ada thundered, causing us all to flinch. "Mirkwood!" he spat. "To me this place will forever be Greenwood the Great, no matter how dark it becomes.

No one dared say a word as my foster brother turned red. We all knew how our father felt about the matter. Our kingdom had been called Greenwood the Great for thousands of years. Only in the past few hundred had it come to be called Mirkwood, as the strange darkness had started to fill the southern part of the kingdom, letting in foul wolves and giant spiders, as well as vile, miserably evil and somewhat intelligent creatures called orcs. Ada, however, refused to call his kingdom this new name and unleashed his wrath upon anyone who dared do so in his presence.

The tension in the room was palpable until a young _elleth_ entered the room. "My lord?" she said, hesitantly, her eyes downcast.

"Yes?" Ada said crisply, angered at the interruption.

"A messenger has just arrived from Rivendell, sir. He says it is a very important message from Lord Elrond and Gandalf."

"Gandalf?" Ada said, his brow furrowed. "Rivendell" was the Westron way of saying Imladris, as "Gandalf" was Mithrandir. "Show him in."

The messenger came quickly into the room and saluted all of us with the traditional elvish greeting. "Your majesty," he said, breathing hard. 

"_Mae govannen_," Ada said. "What brings you to Greenwood in such haste?"

"I have urgent news to report. Lord Elrond has requested a secret council with representatives of the free peoples of Middle-Earth. It seems the wizard Gandalf has something important to discuss involving Mordor."

We all shuddered at the mention of Mordor. It was an evil place where nothing grew and despair and evil filled the land and air. It had been the stronghold of Sauron the Destroyer in the First Age, until he had been defeated by an alliance of elves and men. Ada's father and many other elves had died in this war. 

The elf continued. "I have brought this message from my lord, and he requests a representative from Mi-Greenwood attend the council."

He handed Ada a letter. "_Hannon-le, mellon nîn_," Ada said. To the elf-maid who had showed the messenger into the room, he said, "Please escort our friend to the kitchens, and prepare a room for him to sleep in this night. I am sure he is hungry and tired."

"I will do so, King Thranduil," she bowed and left the room. The exhausted-looking messenger did the same and followed her out of the room.

As Ada broke the seal on the letter, Arahil said, "I wonder what would be so important that Gandalf would—"

He had stopped speaking because he had seen the look on Ada's face. All elves are quite pale, but Ada's face had suddenly gone chalk-white, a look of utter horror present on his face. 

"My lord, what is wrong?" Nurhoth asked, his voice frightened.

Ada's mouth opened and closed, searching for the words. "This cannot be," he muttered, almost inaudibly. 

"Adar," Mellossë said softly, placing a hand on Ada's arm.

Ada gripped his son's arm tightly. "Elbereth help us," he said, closing his eyes slowly. When he opened them, he looked more frightened than I had ever seen him in my life. "Gandalf believes he has found the One Ring."

Every single one of us flinched so hard it seemed as if we had all been slapped in the face. We sat there for a moment, in utter shock, until I finally found the power of speech again. "Ada," I said, "wh-where? And how?"

My father allowed himself a bitter chuckle, though he seemed on the verge of tears. "It seems that Master Bilbo Baggins has had it in his possession for some sixty years."

Legolas started as if he had been shot by an arrow. "Where in the name of Eru and all the Valar did that hobbit get the master-power ring of Sauron of Morgoth?" Legolas and I were both remembering the halfling's stay in Mirkwood. He had been accompanied by over a dozen dwarves, and through a great misunderstanding, had been imprisoned by Ada until Mithrandir arrived to explain him.

"From Gollum," Ada said quietly, to which we all nearly fell out of our chairs again.

Ada held his hand to his chest for a moment, recovering himself, then said, "Apparently it is a long and complex story which they will explain at the council." He sighed. "I do not know how am I going to leave the kingdom at this time." Ada no longer seemed angry, just exhausted. He rubbed his temples again. 

"If you will permit me, I will go," Legolas said quietly. "It would give us a chance to relay the news about Gollum, as well as allow me to see Estel and Lord Elrond's twins again."

That made sense. Legolas and Aragorn, who was called Estel in the elvish tongue, had had many adventures together with Elladan and Elrohir over the years. Estel was the lord's foster son and a mortal man of great bravery and skill. Legolas and I both liked him immensely, and I knew they would be thrilled to see each other again.

Ada considered, then smiled sadly. "All right. You may go, my son," he said. I noticed that Mellossë was glaring at Legolas, though I did not know why. He saw me looking and looked away.

Legolas was still guarding his thoughts from me, so I did not anticipate what he said next: "I would like my wife to accompany me." 

Inwardly startled, I just looked at him. He patted my hand and thought "Trust me" but said nothing out loud.

"Certainly not," Ada said firmly. "It is much too dangerous."

I did not have to say anything; my husband did it for me. "Why, Ada? It is no more dangerous for her than it is for me. She knows how to defend herself; you yourself have made sure she has had all the same warrior training as her brothers. She is better with long knives than I am, and can use a bow efficiently enough."

I smiled despite myself. I had never heard him admit, even in his mind, that he thought I was better than he when fighting with elvish long-knives.

"Someone else of the court _should_ go with him, Adar," Arahil put in. He smiled at me. "Besides that, I am sure she would like to see the Lady Arwen again."

He was right. I had not seen Lord Elrond's daughter for nearly a thousand years, not since Legolas and I had married. It would be nice to have a female to talk to again, as I had not had much female interaction since Naneth Aranel had sailed to Valinor, some twenty years before. It got rather lonely surrounded by male elves all the time.

I felt I should speak. "Please, Ada, it would mean a great deal to me."

He sighed, considering again. "All right, you may go," he said reluctantly. "But only if Captain Nurhoth accompanies you both."

Nurhoth said, "I will do anything you ask, my lord."

Ada said, "You are my most trusted companion after my family. I trust you with my children's lives."

Nurhoth nodded. "I will do everything in my power to ensure that no harm comes to them."

"It is done then," Ada said, sighing again. 

Mellossë was glaring at Legolas and me again, anger twisting his handsome features into almost a snarl. "Adar, I hardly think—" he began.

Ada held up his hand and Mellossë immediately fell silent. "I have spoken."

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What is Mellossë's problem? I thought.

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I do not know Legolas thought back. It was tinged with worry.

Ada looked at us all. "I want you to know," he said to Legolas and me, "I do not like this. I do not like this at all."

I stood and walked to him. I massaged his tense shoulder blades and said, "We will be all right, Ada. We will all watch out for each other."

He touched my right hand with his own. "I know you will, daughter. I just hope it will be enough."

He stood, and everyone else joined him. "Now I am going to bed and I suggest you all do the same. Good night, _sellin nîn_." 

We all murmured our good-nights, and Ada kissed my forehead. He walked out of the room, and Mellossë stalked out after him.

I turned to Legolas. "_Hannon-le, meleth_," I said. "But please do not guard your thoughts from me again. It frightens me."

He touched my face. "I promise I will not do it again."

Nurhoth touched Legolas's arm, smiling. "Don't forget, you two have a lot to pack."

"I will help you," Arahil offered.

I thanked him, and Nurhoth said good-night. Arahil, Legolas, and I made our way to our bedchamber to pack, seeing no sign of Mellossë anywhere. We were all concerned about him and did not understand his strange attitude toward our grim business in Imladris.

Ada's attitude I understood all too well, and from Legolas's thoughts I knew he did, as well. Though he would not show it or tell us in words, we knew Ada was afraid. King Thranduil was not often afraid, but when he was, it was for good reason. Legolas and I agreed without speaking to be extra careful, to be on our guard even more than our warrior-training would have had us be on our trip to Imladris.

Our Ada was frightened. He was afraid that history was going to repeat itself.

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_____Elvish translation

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Adar—father

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Ada—Daddy, Dad

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elleth—elf-maiden

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Mae govannen—well met, welcome

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Naneth—Mother

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Hannon-le—thank you

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Meleth--love


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

Disclaimer—Anything you recognize is not mine! :)

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Rated—PG-13, especially this chapter that contains lots of angst and a character death.

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*Author Notes—Yay another chapter—I'm on a roll! This chapter has a flashback (which hopefully I segue into well but just in case I will mark it). Also, I am being deliberately vague about how long it takes to get to Rivendell from Mirkwood because truthfully, I'm not sure. One of the indexes in Return of the King has a timeline which says that Gollum escaped in June of 3018 Third Age, but the council of Elrond did not take place until October 25, 3018 Third Age. I looked at a map but I'm terrible at geography, so please excuse me. I also figured that there were people coming from all over the place so it would take some of them a couple of months to get there (for example, I believe the index says that Boromir left Minas Tirith in June). So just in case, I'm being vague. As I do more research and figure out where the hell this is going and just what the hell I'm doing, the final draft will be fixed to better detail the journey.

Now, onto the story!

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Chapter 3

Nearly two months passed without any incident. Gollum was never found, though Ada would not allow any of the warriors to go too far into the southern part of the kingdom, especially near the city of Dol Guldûr. Ada had learned his lesson about _that_ in the past. 

My father also carefully avoided speaking to me about the trip. He was not happy at all that I was going, but had finally accepted that I would not be talked out of it. As king, he of course had the right to forbid me to go, but he knew that if he did so, not only would _I_ be seethingly angry with him, but Legolas and Arahil would be disappointed as well. He wisely chose not to upset his three children.

Our company of ten, consisting entirely of trustworthy warriors chosen personally by Captain Nurhoth, would head south to the Old Forest Road, then east across the Misty Mountains, down to the valley and into Rivendell. It would not be an easy journey, as we would have to be on our guard for giant spiders and orcs, especially once we got into the mountains. 

We were, however, lucky in the fact that it was still warm. We had plenty of supplies, including more lembas bread than any of us would ever want to see in our long lives. We had more than enough provisions to last us well into winter, just in case, though we would be in Imladris long before the first snow fell. Both Ada and Nurhoth wanted us to be extremely prepared. 

At dawn on the morning of our departure, everyone was doing last-minute preparations. Nurhoth was down at the stables barking orders to the grooms who were readying the horses. Legolas was down in the armory stocking up on arrows for everyone whilst I was in our bedroom packing the rest of our clothes. For the journey itself I would be wearing a warrior's tunic and leggings, done in Mirkwood's signature brown and green, as opposed to the long, flowing dresses I usually wore in court. Obviously it would be much more comfortable and practical for me to wear such clothes on our trip, but I wanted to have some more formal things to wear once we arrived in Rivendell. Hence, the packing.

I finally got everything packed and began to gather up my weapons. To my back I strapped a quiver and simple short-bow. I was nowhere near as skilled as my husband at archery, so I did not even bother with elaborate longbows. I did, however, have two white-handled long knives in the quiver as well as a dagger in my right boot. I could draw any of these quicker than sight and seldom missed my target. 

Once I had these securely on my person, I stopped to look in the mirror. Everything seemed to be in its proper place, including the tight braids I had woven into my hair. It was long, nearly halfway down my back, and shined in the morning sun. A great source of pride is an elf's hair, and I was extremely happy of mine.

I saw Ada behind me in the mirror before he spoke. He stood in the doorway and said sadly, "You look so much like your mother, my _Morfiniel_. It was often that I saw Pellalómë in warrior-garb, as dark and beautiful as the moon. When the light caught her hair it shone with silver streaks, as does yours." 

I turned around as he stepped into the room, holding what appeared to be a sheathed sword behind his back. "Thank you, Ada," I said softly. My mother had been a rare beauty even among elves, all of whom are exceedingly attractive. For anyone to compare me to her was the greatest compliment I could receive. 

"You are quite welcome, especially because it is the truth," Ada replied. 

After we had finished smiling at each other, there was an awkward silence. I knew what he was thinking about. "Ada," I said. "I will be all right. Hopefully we will steer clear of orcs, but even if we do not, I am capable of defending myself. Are you forgetting who my parents were? Besides that, Legolas will be there. We will take care of each other."

"I fear for him too," Ada said, holding up a hand as I began to protest. "It is not because of what happened to your parents, though obviously I am thinking about that, as well. I cannot put a finger on what exactly is bothering me, I just…" He paused, searching for the words. "I have a bad feeling about this. My intuition is telling me that something bad is going to befall you or Legolas. And that terrifies me."

"Oh Ada," I said. The fear in his voice brought tears to my eyes. I hugged him tightly, and he held my head to his broad chest as he had done so often when I was a child. Ada was tall, even for an elf, with broad-shoulders and big arms perfect for hugging little elflings. I had always felt secure in his embrace, as if my Ada was king of the whole world and not just Mirkwood; no monsters could get me as long as he was there to give me hugs.

"I love you so much, _iel nîn_," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "If anything happens to you and Legolas I will not be able to bear it. Already so much death…"

"Stop," I said, lifting my head to stare into his pale-blue eyes. "It is not your fault that they are dead. They went too far south, we were not aware of the danger in that part of the forest then."

"But your father—"

"My father was captain of the guard. It was his duty to lead the patrol," I said.

"Yes, and he was following _my _orders," Ada said.

I sighed. There was no arguing with him. He was going to blame himself for my parents' deaths for the rest of his long life, and there was nothing that I or anyone else could do about it. 

"Even now, so many years later, I still picture Dûrborion's eyes as he lay on that couch. He trusted me implicitly and I sent him and your mother to their deaths." 

At that I did cry, picturing my real Adar, a courageous warrior who had died defending a routine patrol that had strayed too far to the dark southern part of the wood. I still remembered the day it had happened…

********

…I was only fifteen years old when my parents died, still a very small elfling, almost a baby really. My father was captain of the Mirkwood guard and my mother was a prominent warrior. Ada Dûrborion was a close companion of King Thranduil and had known him for many years. In turn my mother Pellalómë became quite close to Queen Aranel. 

Arahil and I spent hours at the palace with the young princes, Mellossë and Legolas. Arahil was the oldest, at two years older than Mellossë. Legolas was fourteen years younger than his brother and I was eighteen years younger. The four of us were always getting into trouble. In between lessons we would play games just generally try to annoy the adults. They did, however, get a laugh out of watching me tucking up my skirts to run after the boys. I always had a terrible time keeping up with them because of my clothes and because I was smaller. I used to fall on my face a hundred times a day. 

So it was that fateful day, when the four of us were playing hide and seek. We had split up into teams, oldest versus youngest, which was how Legolas and I ended up behind a huge curtain in the front hallway, giggling breathlessly whilst trying not to give ourselves away. 

We had been hiding for about ten minutes when suddenly a great shout went up from one of the sentries outside. Someone else shouted for the king and a lot of people began hustling about. Legolas and I peeked out from behind the curtain to see King Thranduil and Queen Aranel come running into the hall at full speed, both of them extremely pale and horror-stricken. They looked so frightened that Legolas and I became scared ourselves. To my surprise the prince reached for my hand then, something he had never done. Mellossë and Arahil were just beginning to appreciate the opposite sex, but the younger prince of Mirkwood was still young enough to be of the opinion that all maidens had cooties. 

"How long?" Thranduil asked, his voice anxious and worried.

"They are coming right now, my lord," someone answered.

The huge wooden palace doors creaked open very quickly. Everyone began talking at once. My eyes widened in shock as I recognized an elf-warrior named Nurhoth stumble inside, blood running from a cut above his eye. Several more elves ran in, all in various states of injury, followed by two others carrying the limp form of another in their arms.

"That is Belegorn!" Legolas whispered, biting his lip.

Someone yelled, "Sire!" and Thranduil's head snapped toward the door. He immediately ran outside. The queen put her hand over her mouth and began to sob quietly.

"Where did your Ada go, Legolas?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"I do not know," he replied. His lower lip had begun to quiver. He was only four years older than I and neither of us had ever seen anything like this. 

I heard Thranduil shout, "We must get him to the infirmary!" He came back inside carrying a tall elf in his strong arms. Tears were streaming down his face as he cradled the warrior to him. I could not see the elf's face, only that dark, dark hair and his green tunic covered in blood. 

Nurhoth had somehow stopped the bleeding from his eye, and went to help the king. "It is too late, sire, he will never make it."

Then the injured warrior spoke. "_Aran nîn_," he said, and ice water flowed into my veins. I recognized that voice immediately. It was the light, musical tenor of someone who sang me songs about the trees, who had taught me about Gil-galad and Beren and Lúthien, who made my mother giggle when he kissed the back of her neck. It was he who hugged me when monsters came in the night and kissed my knees when I skinned them. It was my father, and he was dying.

"ADA!" I shrieked so loudly that it startled the king. He stumbled and would have fallen to the floor if Nurhoth had not caught he and my father at the same time. Legolas grabbed my arm with both his little hands but I tore myself away from his grasp and launched myself across the room.

The queen intercepted me, picking me up and cradling me against her. "NO!" I screamed. I beat my small fists against her and tore at her long golden hair. "Let me go! I want my Ada!"

"Hush _pen-neth_," Queen Aranel said. "We are trying to help him."

"Sorayaiel," my Ada croaked. I jostled and fought Aranel until she finally let me go. I ran over to the couch on which they had placed my father after discerning that he would not make it to the infirmary. 

His head was in Thranduil's lap, and he was covered in blood. I could not see what had caused the injury, but I had never seen so much blood in my life. "What happened to you Ada?" I sobbed. "Where is Nana?"

He fought to speak, blood sputtering out of his mouth. "I can no longer feel her in my head. I cannot hear her thoughts," he said. "There were _yrchs_…"

A coughing fit cut him off. He coughed up black blood and collapsed back onto the couch, breathing hard. After a moment, he fought to speak again. "L-listen to me. I am going to Mandos now, darling. You must…be strong…"

"No," I sobbed. "Ada please do not go!"

Suddenly my brother was there beside me. I had no idea from where he had come, but I clung to him in sorrow and utter terror. "Adar," he whispered.

"Ara-Arahil," our father said. He smiled. "I love you both, _sellin nîn._"

__

"Im meleth-le, Adar," Arahil said, tears running down his cheeks.

"Thran…duil," my father stammered. The king stroked his hair away from his sweaty face. "You will…take them?"

The king smiled through his tears. "I will love them as if they were my own, Dûrborion," he said. He looked over at Queen Aranel, who nodded.

"_Hannon-le, mellon nîn_," my father said. He smiled once more and closed his eyes, slipping silently away to the Halls of Mandos, to join Belegorn and the other warriors who had died in the battle.

I felt utterly lost. I looked over at the queen, who had her arms wrapped around a crying Mellossë, with Legolas behind her. "Where is my Nana?" I asked.

Thranduil lovingly set my father's head on the couch and knelt in front of me. I was still clinging to Arahil's leg. "Your Naneth and Adar are together now. They have gone to the Halls of Mandos, in Valinor, where all slain warriors go. Do you remember those stories?" Thranduil asked.

"Y-yes," I said. "But I do not want them to go!"

"It cannot be helped, little sister," Arahil said, wrenching my arms from around his leg and stooping in front of me. "I know it hurts, because my heart is empty too. But you must be strong, Sorayaiel. You will see Naneth and Adar again one day, I promise. But for now you must have strength." He hugged me tight. Even then, my brother knew the right words to say. By comforting me, he had comforted us all, a little. 

King Thranduil knelt beside us. Arahil looked away quickly, for the king had my father's blood all over his royal robes. Thranduil closed his eyes for a moment, his grief spilling from them, then looked at us. "We will be strong together," he said. "For though we will never try to replace your parents, Queen Aranel and I will love you as we love our princes. We will always protect you both. You are our family now." He hugged us both to him, and fresh tears flowed. 

Just then I felt someone hugging at my back. I turned to see Legolas, who had previously been clinging to his mother's skirts, with tears streaking down his little face. "I love you Sorayaiel," he said, and for the very first time I saw the thought in his head and felt it coming from his body. Though at that time I did not know how much our love for each other would blossom and grow into the beautiful thing it eventually became, I knew that he did love both Arahil and me and would welcome us as his foster-siblings. 

The king and queen were true to their word. They loved all four of us unconditionally, and eventually Arahil and I began to call them Adar and Naneth, though we never forgot our real parents. The kingdom happily accepted us as well, eventually referring to me as the princess and Arahil as the third prince of Mirkwood. 

********

On the day of our departure to Imladris, Ada Thranduil hugged me once more and kissed my forehead. "I am not trying to scare you, Sorayaiel," he said. "I only wanted you to know how you felt."

"I know how you feel, Ada," I replied. "I only hope that this guilt does not consume you. You must remember that though my parents are dead, Arahil and I are alive, and we do not blame you. I love you very much and I know that my brother does too." 

He smiled but said nothing. I was not finished speaking. "I do not mean to say that I feel no apprehension about the trip," I said. "I am only trying to say that Legolas and I will watch out for ourselves and everyone in our party. I will be on my guard, just like you taught me. I will not let you down."

"You could never let me down," he said. "You are brave and courageous, and you always place others before yourself, Dûrborioniel."

I blushed. "I do not have to think about that, it is my nature. I was taught well, for I am Dûrborioniel as well as Thranduiliel."

He smiled again and said, "I will try not to worry about you or my son, but it will be hard."

"That is all I ask, Ada," I replied, smiling back. "I just want you to try."

"I do have something for you that will help me to worry less," he said, finally pulling the sword out from behind his back. "This is for you. It is Celebmegil, your father's sword. I waited to give it to you until I thought you would need it most."

I took it, unsheathing it to glint in the summer sun. I practiced it a bit, jabbing at an imaginary foe. It was quite light and easy to handle, and with practice I would become very skilled with it.

I imagined my real father in the woods near Dol Guldôr, wielding this very sword, felling any evil that came into his path. My heart swelled, with love and sorrow for the parent I had lost. It also filled with love and gratitude for the one standing in front of me. I sheathed the sword and embraced him again.

I felt my husband approaching before he spoke, standing in the doorway. "Everything is ready," he said softly. I felt his reluctance to enter the room and my heart went out to him. He knew that Ada and I had just come to an understanding, and his princely manners would not allow him to interrupt the moment.

There is, however, a bond between elven parents and children as there is between husband and wife, though of a different type. Ada felt Legolas's feelings too, and smiled at him. "Come in, my son," he said.

Legolas smiled and stepped into our bedchamber. Ada beckoned to him, and his son stepped into his father's embrace, which was difficult because Legolas was nearly as tall as Ada. "You are always welcome, Legolas," Ada said. "Do not ever think you are interrupting. I would think you would have seen so in your wife's thoughts."

"I did," my husband said, returning the hug. "But I did not wish to be insubordinate." Ada smiled again. He had taught all of his children well. No one could ever say that we did not know our manners.

"Step back, my son," Ada said, breaking the embrace. "Let me look at you."

Legolas did as he was told, taking a sheepish step backward, allowing Ada to see him better. He was wearing a green and brown fitted tunic extremely similar to mine, with cuffs on his arms to hold back the long-sleeved silver shirt underneath, and to keep it out of his line of fire. The cuffs were engraved with trees and the royal symbol of Mirkwood, and had once belonged to Ada. He wore leggings and an intricately detailed quiver on his back, engraved with a peacock. His longbow and arrows were very dark, and much more elaborate than mine, though his long-knives were virtually identical. His golden hair fell about his shoulders in a straight line; the tight braids I had woven into the back and sides earlier in the morning were still intact. His piercing sky-blue eyes regarded Ada with a mix of love and admiration. All in all, he looked very graceful and regal, and quite handsome. Very much like his father. 

Ada was still smiling, but shaking his head and near tears. "I cannot believe that all of my children are so grown-up," he said. "It seems only yesterday that you two were chasing each other through the palace halls playing tag and practically knocking down everything in your paths."

We all laughed. Ada smirked, one eyebrow going up. "Then, of course, came knowing looks over afternoon tea, flirtations on the archery range, and stolen kisses in dark corners," he teased.

Legolas and I both turned quite red. "We should not have tried to hide it from you, Ada," I admitted.

"Hide what?" Ada said, laughing. "Everyone knew you two were soulmates by the time you were ten years old. You were inseparable. Dûrborion, Pellalómë, Aranel and I talked about it all the time, especially after you each started mysteriously knowing where the other was all the time, even when you were far apart, and when you began to finish each other's sentences. We knew that your souls had bonded as only happens once in an elf's lifetime, that your minds were forever joined."

Legolas, who was normally extremely reserved and tried hard to keep his emotions utterly in check, had reddened to the points of his ears just like his father, though in embarrassment instead of anger. "Well, you might have told _us_," he said. "It would have made many things a lot easier."

Ada laughed then, a loud booming hearty sound that made Legolas and me laugh as well, despite ourselves. "Oh but Aranel and I got quite the joy out of watching you two squirm once you had realized your feelings for each other," he said. "One cannot fight the inevitable, so we both sat back and enjoyed the ride. The queen was delighted to watch you two fall in love, as was I."

I had known this, though I could not help feeling sad again that day, thinking about Nana Aranel. She, like my birth parents, had gone to Valinor prematurely, though at least we had been allowed more time with her. She had been, to our delight, ecstatic when Legolas and I had finally announced that we were in love, as had Ada. We had hidden it at first, afraid that they would not approve, since for nearly a thousand years we had been foster-siblings. But as we had just heard from Ada, this was definitely not the case.

Legolas sensed my sadness and was sorrowful himself in thinking about his nana, with her bright, beautiful green eyes and her fair, open face. We both remembered her shimmering golden hair falling freely around us as she squeezed us tightly and showered us with kisses. Legolas put his arm around my shoulders as we shared this memory, and I swore I could almost hear Nana's sweet, musical laughter floating through the palace as it had done so often when she was still in Middle-Earth.

Ada was remembering too, smiling sadly at us. "Sometimes I can still feel her presence in my mind, even though she is in the Undying Lands," he said. "And I know that she is as proud of you both as am I."

I felt my eyes begin to glisten like my father's and husband's. I stepped forward and embraced Ada again. He kissed my hair and said, "Please come back to me, both of you. If I lost either of you I would fall apart."

"We _will _come back," Legolas said firmly, grasping Ada's arm. "I promise."

I saw in his mind that he meant this implicitly. I had, of course, been a little nervous about the journey, but seeing my husband's fierce determination as well as knowing that he _always_ kept his promises made me much more confident.

Ada kissed the top of Legolas's head as well, though he did not have to bend down to do so as he did with me. "Come," he said, placing an arm around each of our shoulders. "Let us finish getting your horses ready so you may start on your journey."

We made our way to the stables in a comfortable silence, with Ada holding us both close to him the whole way.

An hour later everything was ready. Ada embraced Legolas and me one last time, and wished our other eight companions good journey. I said good-bye to my brothers, as well. Arahil embraced me heartily with tears in his eyes. We had seldom been parted in all our lives; though he was not as apprehensive about me going as Ada was, he was still a little nervous. But he knew I was plenty capable of taking care of myself and was confident we would all come back in one piece.

Mellossë, on the other hand, was quite distant, only quickly hugging me and muttering something before stepping away. It was true that I had never been as close to Mellossë, who was eighteen years older than I, as I had been to Legolas and Arahil, but his dismissal still hurt and confused me. He was downright cold to Legolas, who was very upset and troubled that his older brother would not even meet his eyes and was, for some reason, alienating us both. I thought that perhaps he was jealous. Legolas's thoughts agreed with this assumption, but he also suspected there was more to it than that. We silently agreed to have a long talk with our brother when we returned home. 

********

REVIEW PLEASE!!!! Thanks.

And a special thanks to daw who left a nice review…she's a great author and if you like Mirkwood stories, read hers, they're some of the best. 

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Morfiniel—"dark-haired daughter"

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Iel nîn—"my daughter"

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Aran—"king"

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Pen-neth—"Young one"

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Yrchs—"orcs"

Dûrborioniel-"daughter of Dûrborioniel"

Thranduiliel—"daughter of Thranduil"

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Sellin nin—"my children"

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Hannon-le—"thank you"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer --NOT TOLKIEN!!! 

Chapter 4—This one is going to be a little short. . . I'm at home for a couple of days but I have exams all this week so I thought I'd better get some up there for everybody (the like TWO people that are reading this!!) So here it is and there will be a lot more next week. 

I'm thinking this is going to end up being much more of a character-driven story than an action- driven story. This is another dialogue chapter but the next chapter is going to have some action in it.

Also, in case anyone was wondering, there is a prequel and a sequel in the works! Hehe. I have lots of ideas! 

Special thanks to dragon-of-the-north for a nice review. J 

Rated PG-13—just in case.

CHAPTER 4

********

Nearly twelve hours after leaving the palace, about an hour after the sun had gone down, we stopped for the night in a small clearing. Nurhoth said it was a good place to stop because it could be defended from both sides—orcs or spiders could not surprise us.

I dismounted and retrieved some apples from my packs. I fed them to my horse Dîndal, a speckled white-and-black stallion I had been riding for many years. He was a sweet and even-tempered horse who had never given me any trouble. I rubbed his tired legs a bit and removed the rest of my supplies from his back. I was rewarded with a chuffle and a soft nuzzle of his head, in thanks. He turned away to join the other horses grazing deeper in the forest. They would come back when we called them, so I was not worried.

Legolas, Menellion, and Nurhoth had gone up into the trees to scout a bit whilst the rest of us set up the camp. I walked around to stretch my legs a bit, then laid out our bedrolls and some supplies. I was interrupted by an auburn-haired elf named Lalaithion.

"Princess Sorayaiel," he said, bowing slightly. "Would you like some fruit?"

A mischievous grin was present in his flawless features. This _edhel_ was a notorious prankster, always full of warmth and laughter. No one was immune to his jokes and mischief, not even the princess of Mirkwood. 

I eyed the pears in his hand warily. "What did you put inside it?" I asked, half-smiling.

A look of shock crossed his face, but his grey-green eyes held a glint of laughter. "Who me?" he asked, feigning innocence. "Would I do that to you, _Ithiliel_?"

"Daughter of the Moon," he had called me. This was major brown-nosing—something had to be amiss. "Let me see it," I said, snatching the fruit out of his hands before he could react. I was remembering an incident some years before when "someone" had placed a mouse in my bedroll on a hunting trip. I am not normally afraid of rodents, at least not until I place my feet into my warm blanket to discover that a sharp-toothed, squeaking denizen has already taken up residence there. No, it would not have surprised me if he had placed worms (or something far worse) into the fruit. I broke open the pears and peered inside them.

Lalaithion laughed heartily as I found the fruit unmolested. I could not help it; I slugged him hard and laughed, despite myself. I also heard several of the others giggling behind me. "Have you done something like this to everyone?" I asked. 

"Not everyone," he said, suddenly sounding quite serious. I looked up from the fruit to see him gazing over my shoulder, all mirth gone from his features. I turned around to see a dark-haired _elleth_ sitting on a log eating, entirely apart from everyone else.

"Tell me you are not going to play a prank on Lady Fânwen," I said, dismayed.

His look of astonishment was genuine this time. "Surely not, my lady," he said. "For I quite value my life."

This statement both relieved and amused me somewhat. Lalaithion was exaggerating in thinking that Fânwen would kill him for playing a prank on her, but not by much. She was several hundred years older than I and had been a member of the Mirkwood patrol for many years. She was a stoic, serious warrior whose cold beauty and steel-grey eyes intimidated nearly everyone with whom she came into contact. 

Like all elves, Lady Fânwen prided herself on her reserve, her ability to control her emotions. However, Fânwen was extreme in her beliefs that any public display of emotion was a sign of weakness. She felt that all warriors should be serious and strong, not at all emotional and certainly not funny. Thus Lalaithion irritated her to no end. She simply would not tolerate his constant laughter and playful nature, so they usually kept far away from each other. Actually, I think Lalaithion was a little frightened of her, and that was why he kept his distance. 

In fact I had only known one person who had been able to penetrate Fânwen's staunch elven reserve: her husband Menellion, who was also journeying with us. If I had not been bonded to my husband as strongly as I was, I would not have understood what had drawn the two of them together. Menellion was not an exact polar opposite of his wife but they were vastly different. He was all seriousness when it came to protecting the kingdom, but he knew how to let loose-he was given to raucous laughter and usually howled at Lalaithion's jokes, just not in his wife's presence. The Wood-elves of Mirkwood may have referred to me as _Celebithil _and_ Ithiliel_, which both flattered and embarrassed me, but Fânwen they called _Ringhiril_ and _Khelekien_. I cannot say these names were not fitting.

Despite Lalaithion's mirth and Fânwen's coldness, I trusted them implicitly. Captain Nurhoth knew his warriors well and had chosen only the best to accompany us on the trip. In addition to Lalaithion, Fânwen, Menellion, and himself, Nurhoth had chosen Galenparth, another blonde who was especially skilled with plants and herbs used in healing; Tasarë, a noble warrior Nurhoth had known since they were elflings trained by my father; and Gloriavas, who greatly reminded me of Arahil in that he spoke little and moved more quietly than a cat—also his coal-black eyes burned with a fierce intelligence and gentle kindness toward all elves. The prince and myself rounded out the party of ten. 

Before I could respond to Lalaithion, our discussion was interrupted by the return of my husband, the captain, and Menellion. "What news from the trees?" I asked Nurhoth and Legolas, as Menellion went to find his wife and Lalaithion went to the others.

"Not good, my lady," Nurhoth answered. "They say there is an orc encampment some ten miles ahead, directly in our path."

"We also met someone quite unexpected," Legolas continued. "We saw Radagast the Brown, on his way back to Rhosgobel."

"What did he say?" I asked, my brow furrowed. Radagast the Brown was an Istar like Gandalf. His home lay in Rhosgobel, close to the southern borders of Mirkwood, but out of the way of the treacherous Dol Guldôr. He had not been seen in our realm in quite some time, having been abroad for many years.

"We asked him for information concerning Mithrandir's 'business,'" Legolas said, lowering his voice. We had told virtually nothing to the other members of our party, considering that Lord Elrond's message had said a "secret" council. Undoubtedly they knew something of what was going on—with their elven hearing how could they not? —but still we were cautious.

"But alas," Legolas continued. "He knew about as much as we do. He did say that he met Gandalf fairly recently and advised him to go to Isengard to see Saruman, because the grey wizard had something very important to discuss."

"That makes sense," I mused. "Some say Saruman the White is wiser even than Mithrandir. The council was probably his idea."

Legolas nodded in agreement. We talked a few more minutes until Nurhoth moved off to help the others, who had started a fire and were preparing food. My husband made his way over to where I had spread out our bedrolls. Once there, he removed the weapons from his back, as well as his cuffs and outer tunic. He stretched a bit, smiling at me. 

"Are you hungry, _galad-nîn_?" I asked him.

He patted his perfectly flat stomach. "I am always hungry, _meleth_."

I rolled my eyes, knowing this was all too true. Having spent my formative years with three growing elf-boys I was used to their enormous appetites. If they had been human they would all have been gigantic, unable to move because of their ponderous bulk, for as much as they ate. Thank the Valar for our elvish metabolism.

I went to get him some fruit and lembas, with a small cup of tea. When I returned he was sitting on the bedroll, propped against a tree, staring out into the dark forest. A very troubled look was present on his face; his thoughts were apprehensive as well. 

He turned to me and smiled slightly. "Come, sit with me." He took the tea and food from me, setting it beside him, which allowed me to sit against him. I leaned back against his chest and felt his arms encircle me, linking around my stomach. He leaned his chin against my cheek as we sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. 

"What is troubling you?" I finally asked, for I could not see it in his mind.

"Nothing I can place a finger on," he said, sighing. "Other than the orcs ahead, we have had no trouble. I do not know what it is."

I frowned. "Perhaps some of Ada's apprehension has rubbed off on you?"

"Perhaps," he replied, looking thoughtful. He looked back down at me and smiled. This time the smile reached his eyes, in which I could see many feelings. My husband had a way of looking at me with those eyes, as pale and blue as a spring morning, that made me feel like I was the only other being present in the whole world, as if it were only him and me and the rising moon over top of the ancient trees. When I looked into those eyes, every time I looked in them, everything in the universe ceased to exist except for the love between us, that love which had begun when we were so small and would continue until the end of time. 

I smiled back at him as he said, very softly, "I am so glad you have come, my _Celebithil_. My heart aches when you are not in my arms—even when you are on your horse right next to mine. If I had to leave you for a long time, it would surely break."

I did not answer him out loud because in that moment I could not—my throat was too choked with tears. Sometimes the depth of emotion emanating from the heads and hearts of both of us scared me. The sheer amount of it could be overwhelming. I felt in that embrace on our first night of the trip, knew in my heart and my soul that if we were ever parted I would surely die. Our hearts and minds were one—if anything ever happened to him, my light would fade to nothing and my heart would cleave in two. I would be on the first ship West, as life on earth without him would be too unbearable to live.

I did not, of course, have to say any of this to him because he already knew. He knew because he could see into the depths of my soul, as I could see into his. Such is the beauty of the love between those of the First-born; it knows no equal.

We sat that way for a few moments, our arms entertwined, his chin resting against my cheek. Suddenly I heard and felt a peculiar churning which caused Legolas to laugh softly.

"I guess my stomach is trying to tell me something," he murmured. I laughed and sat up, allowing him to pick up his lembas and tea. I turned and faced him as he ate a piece of a pear. "Have you tried these yet, _meleth_? They are wonderful."

I laughed slightly. "Not quite. . ." I said, receiving a quizzical look in return. I had forgotten that he had not been present during my conversation with Lalaithion—he had been busy talking to Radagast at the time and did not trouble his head with my inane conversations with that crazy elf. "Nevermind," I said.

He broke off a piece. "Here," he said, extending it toward me with slender fingers. I leaned forward across his lap and took a small bite out of the piece in his hand, keeping my eyes on his face the whole time whilst keeping my own features purposely blank. My eyes, however, told a different story, as did my mind, an electric, suggestive one that my husband knew all too well.

This little show elicited a smirk from him, but his pale eyes, which had gone a shade darker as they usually did when we were in this state of mind, were all seriousness. He put down his tea and leaned forward to meet my lips with a hungry kiss, exploring my mouth and my mind as only he knew how.

We both jumped when someone cleared his throat. We had been so preoccupied with each other that even our elven ears had not heard the newcomer's approach. My husband's normally ethereally-pale face was now redder than the fires of Mount Doom; I felt my own ears grow hot as well when I realized that the elf was Lalaithion.

I could literally almost feel him smirking as he said, "I am sorry to interrupt, your highnesses, but Captain Nurhoth would like to organize watches for the night."

Legolas bounded to his feet more quickly than a cat whilst extending his hand to help me rise. "Of course," he said, clearing his throat to cover his embarrassment. "You may tell the captain that the princess and I will take the first watch." 

"Are you sure, _caun nîn_?" Lalaithion asked, the humor even more evident in his voice. "If you and the Lady are otherwise preoccupied. . ." He trailed off.

Legolas chuckled softly and I fought not to smile. Only Lalaithion would have been able to get away with that comment. "We will take the first watch," my husband replied.

The auburn-haired elf smiled and gave a small bow. "As you wish," he said before returning to the others where he would probably laughingly relay to them exactly the state in which he had found the prince and princess.

Legolas turned back to me, snickering. "There you go again," he teased. "Always getting me into trouble."

"Me?" I replied, placing my hands on my hips in mock-hurt. "As I recall, my prince, you are the one who kissed me."

"Ha," he laughed. "I am quite innocent, for if you had not been so obviously flirting with me in such an utterly coquettish manner—"

I could take it no longer. I lunged at him but he was too quick for me. He attacked my sides and tickled me mercilessly until we fell to the ground in a heap, giggling breathlessly. He leaned over and lightly brushed the side of my neck with his lips, eliciting another loud giggle from my throat. I took opportunity of this momentary distraction to renew my assault, savagely tickling his stomach until he doubled over with laughter. He stopped me the only way he knew how: by tackling me bodily on the ground and silencing my giggles with his eagerly playful kisses.

Once again, our mad moment of mirth was interrupted by someone clearing his throat. Legolas was off of me like a rocket, both of us sitting up to see Captain Nurhoth, flanked by the other seven elves in our party. All save Lady Fânwen wore identical knowing grins as if they had caught us doing something much more naughty than just tickling and play fighting.

The prince once again helped me to my feet, trying to save a small bit of dignity, though as before our faces burned like fire. I adjusted my tunic and was somehow able to look Nurhoth in the eyes. He chuckled and shook his head good-naturedly as the others made their way to their respective bedrolls. 

Only Lady Fânwen regarded us with something akin to disgust on her ageless face. I did not look away but met her gaze head-on, embarrassed but unashamed at the very public display of affection between my husband and myself, though I knew it had probably horrified her to no end. It was, after all, decidedly improper behavior in which the grown prince and princess of Mirkwood to indulge themselves. We could rest assured that the king would hear of it. The amusing thing was that Ada would probably laugh.

Legolas and I exchanged glances and self-conscious smiles as everyone bedded down for the night. We went back to our bedrolls where he finished eating, then gathered up our weapons for the watch. He took one side of the encampment and I took the other. The camp lapsed into a sleepy, comfortable silence, the only sounds being the wind and occasional voices of the trees, and the soft, light tenor voice of Legolas as he sang to me inside my head, long into the night.

********

See, that was kind of short. As I said I have exams this week then spring break, whoo-hoo! If anyone is actually reading this, look for an update next week. 

Action! I promise a hell of a lot more of it next time! Will those orcs be a problem? Will Legolas and Sorayaiel be able to keep their hands off each other for more than five minutes at a time (LOL just kidding!)? What is Lady Fânwen's deal? Find out next time! Hahaha.

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Edhel-elf

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Ithiliel-daughter of the moon

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Elleth-elf-maiden

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Celebithil-silver-moon

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Ringhiril-cold lady

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Khelekien—ice-maiden

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Galad-nîn-my light

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Meleth-love

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Caun nîn-my prince


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 is here at last!!! Whoop whoop!

Disclaimer—obviously I'm not Mr. Tolkien and would never profess to write nearly as well as he did. So there you go.

Rated-Pg-13

Author Notes—Sorry this took so long! There is no excuse, I know, but real life interrupted for awhile. Sorayaiel is pretty mad at me for not making time for her, but she has so much to say that sometimes I can't make the time for her. Oh well, as long as she doesn't sic her hubby and his arrows on me all will go well. 

Here is the action I promised everyone. I sort of realize that I'm not good at it, I think character development and musing is much more my style. 

Along those lines, I hope everyone is okay with how I'm portraying Thranduil and especially Legolas. I know he's kind of out of character, but as we get into Rivendell and things start to get more serious, he will too. In the books and movies he always struck me as being the quiet, dependable and resourceful member of the Fellowship, but also in the books especially I really pick up on his sense of humor. He seems a bit boyish and smart-alecky at times (is it just me??) and I think he's got a quick wit, especially when interacting with Gimli. I've tried to portray that here, because I think that, if anything, when he's with his family or friends his sense of humor would be more heightened. Obviously he's still going to be very concerned for their well-being, but I think when he's with people he knows a little better he's going to be able to let loose a little more. Hence, his attitude last chapter and his interactions with Sorayaiel and Lalaithion. 

As for reviewers, everyone is so nice! Thanks especially to repeat reviewers daw the minstrel and dragon-of-the-north who always have something nice to say. Anyone who reviews will be put onto the update e-mail list. I don't have a paid account so I have to do it manually, you can leave your e-mail or I'll use the one you have on your author page if you sign your review. Also anyone that adds me to his or her update list, I'll add you to mine.

And now, Chapter Five

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Ten miles between our small camp of elves and the troop of orcs was too close for much comfort; thus once our watch was over I slept fitfully. Every noise awakened me, from the soft hooting of an owl several miles away to the deafening snoring coming from a certain auburn-haired member of our party. 

Very early that morning, before sunrise, I awoke from a dreamless doze to the murmur of very low voices. I looked over to the remnants of the fire, where Nurhoth and Tasarë were standing. They were very involved in what appeared to be a serious discussion. 

I sat up slowly, not wanting to disturb Legolas, who was curled up against my back, taking up half of my bedroll in addition to all of his. His eyes were still glazed over in deep sleep and his mouth was slightly parted. He looked so young when he slept, so ethereal and innocent, that it made me smile. That was one thing about Legolas: no matter how worried he was about the journey, how concerned he was for the well-being of Mirkwood and all of Middle-earth, he could still sleep like a baby. 

It was cold; I shivered as I stood up to don my outer tunic over top of the thinner silver shirt. The snorer across the camp was still going strong as I made my way as quietly as possible to where the captain and warrior were standing. 

"Princess," the captain said in a low voice as he noticed my approach. "I am sorry that we have awakened you. Were we quite loud?"

"No, not at all," I replied. "I am afraid I was not able to sleep very well." 

"Well, that is understandable," Tasarë said. "Considering someone over there sounds as if they have ruptured a lung." He chuckled.

"It is no matter," I said, laughing slightly myself. "I assume we are to be off soon anyway. Am I correct, Captain Nurhoth?"

He nodded. "I hope to let everyone sleep awhile longer, if that is all right with you and the prince, my lady. But we must not linger here. The trees say the orcs are on the move. I do not wish to be anywhere near here, for we are directly in their path."

I nodded back. "Yes, that sounds fine to me. You have much more experience with these things than I do, Captain. I will trust your intuitions."

"Thank you, my lady," he replied. 

I smiled and made my way back to wake Legolas. Now he was sprawled out on his back over both bedrolls, one hand on his chest and the other thrown up above his head. His white-golden hair was spread out around his head, especially disheveled where he had undone his braids before going to sleep. A smile played at the corners of his lips—he was dreaming. I knew not what he was dreaming about; in fact I purposely blocked out the part of my brain that was he. Occasionally, when we were _both _asleep, we would have the same dream, but when one of us was awake we tried not to stray into the other's still-dreaming head. We had to allow each other some small privacy. 

Reluctantly, I bent to wake him. I smoothed some stray hairs out of his face and said, very gently, "_Echoir, meleth-nîn_." 

Slowly, after a moment, he stirred, his eyes becoming clearer. He stretched and blinked a few times, then sat up slowly. "What time is it?" he asked, thickly.

"_Nev rûn_," I replied. 

He nodded and stood, stretching, as I relayed my conversation with Nurhoth and Tasarë to him. 

He reached for his bow and quiver, then went off to a nearby stream whilst I cleaned up the bedrolls. After I was finished I went to wash as well.

To my surprise Lady Fânwen was already there, a little further down from where my husband was washing his face, splashing water into her eyes to clear out the last remnants of sleep. "Good morning, my lady," she said, without even a trace of good-will or pleasantry in her voice. She did not even turn to look at me, but finished washing her face and began to brush her dark hair.

So she was still angry about last night. Annoyance washed over me, especially after I glanced over at Legolas, who paused in his ministrations to smirk slightly and shrug. He might think her rude demeanor was amusing but I certainly did not. What right did she have to be angry with me? I had done nothing wrong. Even if I had, what could she say about it? I was the princess—the only people I had to answer to were Legolas and Ada. I did not like to think that way—so arrogantly as to say that I was above other elves merely because of my family—but her attitude was really beginning to irritate me. 

"Good morning!" I replied cheerfully, causing Legolas to laugh inside his head. If she was going to annoy me, then I would annoy her right back. Petty, yes, but I cannot say that I did not feel some pleasure at her discomfort. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept well enough," she replied tersely, as she began to braid her hair. 

"She is not going to give you an inch," Legolas thought. He was still smirking but trying hard not to outright smile.

I shot a look at him as I finished washing and started to brush my own hair, raising my voice louder so the others I knew were approaching would hear me. "I did, as well, at least until Lalaithion began to snore. I swear, he is so loud he rivals the dwarves."

I turned as I said my last statement, smiling sweetly at Lalaithion, whose hair was in about fifteen different directions. He was glaring at me, obviously not quite awake yet. With him were an equally sleepy-looking Galenparth and an amused Gloriavas.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but you are mistaken," Lalaithion said, very seriously. "I heard it too, however. I think it was the captain. He ate quite a bit of lembas before bed last night; it must have gotten to him. It was nearly loud enough to wake the dead!"

Galenparth snorted laughter and Gloriavas shook his head as they made their way toward the stream. I smiled a little, but shook my head as well. "It is probably not a good idea to mock Nurhoth, Lalaithion. Especially since he can likely hear you, even down here."

He shrugged. "I only speak the truth."

"The truth?" Gloriavas snorted. "Lalaithion, we all know—"

"_Dín, ilye-o le_," Legolas interrupted, suddenly very stern. 

I turned to see him staring off into the woods, one hand still on the braid he had been plaiting into the left side of his head. I sneaked a look at Fânwen, who had previously been glaring at Lalaithion with contempt, but was now looking toward Legolas with concern in her eyes.

Galenparth had dunked his entire head into the stream, and after whipping his head out and spraying water everywhere, noticed that everyone had gone very silent and tense. "What is it?" he asked, fully awake now and wiping water from his eyes.

"_Lasto_!" Legolas whispered severely as he retrieved his bow from the stone he had propped it against. "_Ná edno en-nas_!" 

Everyone went completely silent. The forest around us had gone as still as death; I could no longer hear the birds whose sweet sunrise-song had been filling the air. The trees had stopped murmuring to each other as well, though I could still feel their apprehension. The only sound was the quiet murmur of the brook. A strange smell had begun to waft toward us as well, a mysterious and horribly foul odor that made me sick to my stomach.

"Can you see anything?" I asked Legolas in my mind. I found that even my thoughts were whispered.

"No," he thought quickly, concentrating hard on looking deeply into the forest. The sun was not quite fully risen yet, but none of us had any trouble seeing in the minuscule light. We were all concentrating hard on listening and watching, barely making a sound even to breathe.

I glanced over at Fânwen again and noticed that she too had notched an arrow to her bow. Mentally I cursed myself—I had not even thought to grab a weapon when I came to the stream. How could I have been so stupid? Even the dagger I usually carried in my left boot was sitting back near the supplies where I had removed it the night before. Without saying a word, Legolas reached into his quiver with one hand and retrieved one of his long knives. He stepped closer to me and placed it into my hands. The other he gave to Gloriavas, who was closest to him. He motioned with one hand and the three of us surrounded the weapon-less and very pale Galenparth and Lalaithion.

My skin seemed to crawl. Something was in the forest, but I knew not what. Whatever it was, it was evil. I could smell the stench of it permeating through the wood. The putrid aroma repulsed even the trees. I looked over at the other elves who looked just as nauseated as I felt. Lalaithion was looking rather green and I knew he was in danger of becoming ill. 

"What _is_ that?" Galenparth demanded in a severe whisper. No one answered him because we did not know. "Even orcs do not smell this bad!"

All went silent again as we tried to discover the source of the stench and evilness that had overtaken the forest. Suddenly a bird burst into song in the top of a tree behind us. All six of us whirled toward the sound—Legolas nearly let his arrow fly but checked himself at the last second. Slowly the forest relaxed as the trees eased their tension and the animals came to life again. Apparently the danger had passed; even the mysteriously rancid stench was gone just as quickly as it had come.

We six elves relaxed as well, Galenparth chuckling nervously as Fânwen and Legolas lowered their bows. Lalaithion shook his head quickly, striking Galenparth in the face with his unkempt hair. "Well," he said. "That was quite the wake-up call."

Galenparth glared at the back of Lalaithion's head as the latter made his way toward the stream again. Legolas smiled slightly at me and said, "My paranoia from last night must be catching—even the forest felt it." 

"We all did, your majesty," Gloriavas said very seriously, still gazing out into the forest. "Though I would call it 'caution' rather than 'paranoia.' I think perhaps we should make haste to begin our journey again." 

"I could not agree more," Legolas replied. I nodded in agreement; the others made sounds of acquiescence as well.

I handed Legolas's knife back to him. He placed it and the one he had given to Gloriavas back into his quiver. He let me finish braiding his hair and waited whilst I did Galenparth's as well. 

We began to walk back up the hill toward the encampment, with Fânwen walking ahead of us, bow still in her hand. Lalaithion lagged behind, as he had refused to let anyone help him with his unruly hair. It was now wet _and_ amess, though he was trying to tame it as he walked. Light conversation began again as we walked up the hill. 

Out of nowhere Fânwen stiffened, coming to a complete stop directly in front of me. She turned and looked skyward, her bow tracing the outline of the forest. 

"What is it, Lady—" I began, but was cut off by an earth-shattering scream that pierced my very soul and sent the entire forest reeling into death-silence once more. 

********

"_Echoir, meleth-nîn_"—"Awaken, my love" (actually "Echoir" is the elvish "Awakening" season, but I like the way this sounds. Purists and elvish scholars beware, my elvish sucks but I have so much fun playing with it that I can't resist. I believe that I probably mix Quenya and Sindarin as well, though I am trying not to do that. As I have stated more than once, this is a first draft so as I learn more elvish I will fix it. I'm currently doing the Sindarin lessons over at councilofelrond.com, it is fun, so all will be remedied once this thing is fully finished. "_Nev rûn_"—"Near sunrise" "_Dín, ilye-o le_"—"Silent, all of you" "_Lasto! Ná edno en-nas_!"—"Listen! Something is out there!" (That is directly from TTT movie, it might be incorrect but the version of the script that I have says that's what it is. If it is incorrect someone please let me know.) 

MORE TO COME!!! PROBABLY EITHER TONIGHT OR THIS WEEKEND, AS SOON AS I GET IT TYPED UP. PLEASE REVIEW AND THANKS :)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer—I don't own anything in this except my own characters—plus actually I don't own them, they own me. Meh.

Author Notes—at the end of the chapter because I don't want to give anything away. . .although I do hope this chapter doesn't get the canon-police after me. From now on I will begin to label this AU just in case. 

Rated Pg-13 for violence and I think this chapter is kind of scary.

Reviews—daw the minstrel—I am glad that you like my Legolas, I was kind of nervous that I am not portraying him well. You nailed my idea of how I want him to be though. Plus as I said before, he kind of needs this time to be playful because (starting this chapter especially) he is going to have to start being that fearless and serious warrior we all know and love.

Nilmandra—I feel sort of honored that you have reviewed my story! Your stories are two of my absolute favorites and I look forward to your updates. You are right that happy Legolas is a good Legolas—we see too many angsty-sad fics about him, I think. Not that he is going to be free from angst in this story, but there will just be a lot less. And yes, Fânwen does need to get over herself. We will get a lot more insight into her in things to come. 

Passion Lover—glad you like those cliffhangers cause they're sure fun to write! Here's another part for you!

And yes, to all who have asked, Radagast will show up again. I'm sort of excited about him. We all know about Gandalf and Saruman and there have been countless interpretations of them, but I don't think I have ever read a fanfic with Master Radagast in it. I'm going to take a lot of liberties with him, I think, and I hope everyone will like him. But that's later on. For now, here's chapter 6.

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Return to Me, Chapter 6 

"What was _that_?" Galenparth demanded, his voice shaking with fear. 

The horrid smell was back, choking us all with its intensity. Whatever this evil was, it was getting closer.

As if I was not already frightened enough, Fânwen's eyes suddenly went as wide as saucers and her breath caught in her throat. Whatever it was, she had seen it. She quickly turned and shoved me as hard as she could, knocking me backward into a totally unprepared Legolas. She would have knocked us both down if Gloriavas had not sidestepped suddenly and caught us both. 

"Go!" she screamed, which frightened me to no end because I had never heard her raise her voice before. "Into the trees! Now!"

Without hesitation Galenparth, Gloriavas, and Lalaithion made for the nearest tree, a huge monster that towered at least fifty feet above the ground. Legolas and I would have gone, as well, had Fânwen not begun to run in the opposite direction. We went after her. 

"Fânwen!" I shouted. "Where are you going? Do you know what is it?"

All contempt she had for us was gone, replaced by adamant concern. "What are you doing?" she shouted back. "Your majesties must get to the trees! _Faroth-yes met_!" 

"Who hunts us?" I demanded, but even as I spoke another ear-shattering scream resounded through the clearing and I knew. 

I knew because Legolas knew. I had never encountered them, but of course I knew of them because of stories I had been told as a child. These were the kind of stories children tell to try and frighten each other, the kind one does not really believe until one sees it for oneself. Legolas, however, _had_ seen them before on hunting trips in which I was not involved, trips near Dol Guldûr, though he would not speak of them because they frightened him more than anything in the world. For Legolas to be frightened I knew something utterly terrible and evil had to be involved.

I felt my husband's fear, his sheer and utter terror at the sound of that scream. He was so afraid that he could not even say the name out loud; he could only dredge it up from the pure horror it evoked within his heart. Shock and fear overwhelmed me; from the tips of my ears down to my toes I became freezing cold. I knew what it was before the thought even completed itself in his mind: Nazgûl. 

"Please," Fânwen said in a lower voice. "Please Prince Legolas, take Sorayaiel and go into the trees. You will be safe there. I must retrieve Menellion."

Pure fear crossed my husband's face. He stepped forward past me and grabbed her arm, wrenching her bow out of her hand. "There is not time. You must come with us."

She tried to shake him off but he gripped her hard and would not let go. "Please! I must find my husband!" 

"I will not let you run to your death! You are coming with us!" Legolas screamed at her. He grabbed her forcibly around the waist with both hands and dragged her back the other way. He handed both her bow and his to me and shouted, "Go, Sorayaiel!" 

I needed no other prompt. I turned and ran as quickly as I could, pausing momentarily to look behind me to make sure that he was following. He had wrapped his arms around Fânwen and hoisted her over his shoulder so he could run full speed. She was screaming all number of Sindarin obscenities at him, some of which I had never even heard before. 

An enormous shadow passed overhead. What I saw when I looked up scared me so badly that I almost stopped running, and probably would have if Galenparth and Lalaithion had not started shouting my name from the tree in which they were situated. It was one of the Nazgûl, a ringwraith, a foul servant of Sauron who among other things had re-inhabited the tower at Dol Guldôr and helped bring the darkness into Greenwood. It was a massive figure, clothed entirely in black robes so that I thankfully could not see its eyes. It did not have a face in the usual way that one thinks of faces, or so Legolas had told me after he had encountered the foul demons before, but it did possess eyes of molten flame so terrifying as to cause grown elven warriors to shake in their boots. 

It was riding on some sort of fell beast, an enormous black creature that looked like a cross between a dragon and a very ugly bird, that radiated evil in waves off its back. It was this creature, I suspected in that fleeting moment, which was causing the nausea-inducing stench. 

It was covered in black grime and dripped drool from its massive fangs. The creature's eyes were enormous black orbs, searching the emerging light below for innocent elves to slaughter. 

All this I saw in the fleeting instant it took for me to make it to the giant tree. I scrambled up into the thick leaves to join the others, looking down instantly to make sure my husband was still behind me. If he was not, I would be back down in an instant to help him, regardless of the danger. 

He was there, still holding onto Fânwen with one strong arm, and climbing with the other. When he made it closer to where the rest of us were hiding he handed a now-limp Fânwen up to Gloriavas, who took her without a word, and hoisted himself up into the branches with us. He put a finger to his lips, as if we needed to be told to be quiet. I handed his bow back to him and he quickly notched an arrow to the string. Galenparth took Fânwen's bow and reached around Gloriavas to retrieve some arrows from her quiver. 

The wraith screamed again, eliciting a stifled sob from Fânwen, who had buried her face in Gloriavas's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair, silently comforting her. All my feelings of ill-will toward her had gone. My heart ached for her. Menellion and the others were probably hiding as we were, but I knew she was terrified she would never see him again. Almost involuntarily I glanced over at Legolas, who I knew was thinking the same thing. 

He did not change his stance of pointing his arrow toward the sky, but looked at me somberly. Our eyes met in silent understanding; despite my overwhelming fear my heart filled with love for him, and hope as well. I knew that as long as he was there, as long as he was alive, he would not let anything happen to any of us. He would give his life for any one of us, as long as it meant that we would be saved. I just hoped it would not come to that.

"I love you, _Celebithil_," he thought. It was almost a whisper but it touched every part of me, and for the first time since the sudden darkness had crept into the woods that morning, I felt as if perhaps we would get through this. 

"I love, you, _galad-o orë nîn_," I thought back. 

The wraith flew closer and bellowed its unearthly scream again, followed by a chuffing roar from its black beast. It flew so close to the tree that the smell choked up my lungs and almost made me gag. I looked at the others who were fighting not to become sick as well. Even the tree was screaming at the rancid stench. 

The wraith was so close that it seemed as if it would surely see us, and probably would have, had we not been wood-elves. Wood-elves, especially Mirkwood elves, were practically raised in the trees. We spoke to them, knew them so intimately that they were almost a part of us. When a wood-elf hid in the trees, nothing could spot them, except perhaps another wood-elf. 

The wraith circled around several more times, then slowly flew out of sight and over the horizon. Gradually the smell went away, the birds resumed chirping, and the forest returned to normal. Six wide-eyed and shell-shocked elves breathed mutual sighs of relief. Slowly we made our way out of the tree. Gloriavas stopped at the bottom of the tree and placed his right hand over his heart and bowed at our large friend. 

"_Hannon-le, mellon nîn_," he said softly. "Thank you for protecting us." The tree sang in reply. 

"And thank the Valar as well," Galenparth said. "Prince Legolas?"

"Yes?"

"Forgive me for asking," Galenparth continued hesitantly, concern in his blue eyes. "But why did you not take a shot at the creature when you had the chance?"

My husband glanced at the other blonde elf. "I was more concerned with getting Fânwen and Sorayaiel out of harm's way. If someone else had had a bow, they could have taken a shot at the creature."

Galenparth, Lalaithion, Gloriavas, and I all flinched. It was seldom that Legolas reprimanded anyone; if he did it involved something of the utmost importance. We all looked away, eyes downcast. My eyes filled with tears and my face burned with shame. I knew the other warriors felt as stupidly as I did. 

Legolas stopped and placed on arm on Galenparth's shoulders. "However," he began. "You all behaved very bravely and I do not slight you for that. You followed my lead and did not question or hesitate about anything I said. I am not angry with any of you, in fact, I am proud and grateful to all of you."

Everyone smiled and relief washed over us all. "However," my husband continued, as he reached over and wiped a tear from my cheek, "From now on, _no one_ goes _anywhere_ without a weapon. Do you all understand?" He cupped my chin in his hand and looked directly into my eyes as he said this.

"Yes, your majesty," everyone muttered. 

I said nothing, but stared up into Legolas's face as he stared down into mine. He said nothing else to me for a moment, then suddenly and wordlessly pulled me into a tight embrace, right in front of everyone. He wrapped his arms around me as I buried my face in his chest and linked my arms around his back to let him hold me for several long minutes. 

"Come," he whispered at length. "I am sure Nurhoth and the others are out of their minds." Our party began walking back toward the camp to find the captain and the others. 

I looked over at Fânwen who was wiping tears out of her eyes. "My Lady," I said quietly. "Are Menellion and the others all right?"

"Yes," she said slowly, not meeting my eyes. "They are looking for us right now."

"Are _you_ all right?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "I am fine." She still would not look me in the face.

I stepped away from Legolas to walk at her side. I reached down and took her hand in my own; to my surprise she let me. The males saw this as some kind of subtle hint and slowed down to allow us to talk privately as we walked. 

"I am sorry, Lady Fânwen," I said. "I am sorry if I have ever done anything to offend you, I did not mean to. I. . .I respect you very much and I do not want any bad blood between us."

For a moment, she said nothing. "It is my fault, Princess. I was very insolent toward you and the Prince, I hope you can forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," I said truthfully. I suspected that our encounter with the Nazgûl had done something to change Fânwen, something profound. As it was I had never seen her cry before; I had never seen this much emotion coming from her at all. I would not hold grudges or be angry about something so petty, especially after our lives had just been threatened. 

She wiped another tear from her eye with the free hand that was not holding mine. "Look at me," she whispered. "I am falling apart."

"You are surely not," I answered. "Fânwen, it is not a crime to show emotion, especially right now. I believe everyone here cares about you, I know I do and certainly your husband does. You should feel free to express your emotion to us, whether it be fear or sadness or mirth. We are not going to judge you or treat you unkindly just because you have feelings."

She shook her head. "You do not understand, your majesty. I promised myself I would. . .Nevermind."

"What is it?" I asked, my brow furrowed.

She hesitated, then looked at me. Her large brown eyes were rimmed with salty tears; her beautiful face a rigid mask of utter sorrow. She looked down. "I promised myself I would never let this happen again. . . I promised you, Princess."

"What are you talking about?"

"Fear," she whispered. "I'm talking about fear. I had seen the Nazgûl before, nearly three thousand years ago. It was a night I never wanted to recall ever again. Because of my fear, several warriors died. Your mother and father died."

I stopped in my path and simply stared at her. I had no idea what she was talking about. 

"I could not do what your husband did this morning. I was two hundred years old. We were near Dol Guldôr; your mother was already hurt. Your father asked me to get her to safety. The ringwraith attacked us, and I panicked. . .I was so frightened! Instead of getting Pellalómë to safety I stopped and fired at the beast and missed. Your father stepped in to aid me, and took the brunt of the attack that was meant for me."

I stared at her, vaguely aware that Legolas and the others had stopped behind us at the sound of Nurhoth's shout from across the clearing. I could not speak. 

She was uneasy at my silence and continued pouring forth her story. "From then on I promised myself, and I promised you, though I had never even spoken to you, the tiny elfling, that I would never let my emotions—my fear—get in the way of anything ever again. Not in fighting, not in anything in my life. And I have held to that, for almost three thousand years, until today. Until I saw that. . . that. . . _vile_ creature again!" 

She sobbed anew. For a moment I was stunned, and knew not how to react. Why had no one ever told me this? I searched my husband's brain; he had not known either. All this time, I had thought Fânwen hated me, when it was herself she had hated. My heart was overwhelmed with pity and even love for this woman.

"Fânwen," I said, taking her into my embrace. "Do not blame yourself. The Valar did not believe that was your time to leave this world. It was my parents' time, and there was nothing you could do about it. What was done, was done. I do not blame you for anything."

"You do not?" she asked, tears tracking down her cheeks. 

"No," I said truthfully. "I only ask one thing of you now."

"What is it, my princess?"

"That you stop," I replied. "Stop shielding yourself from everyone. Be yourself. Live as you were meant to be. . .my friend."

She looked at me and smiled through her tears. "I think that I can do that."

"Good," I replied, smiling, as we embraced again. "Now, let us find your husband."

We found Nurhoth, Tasarë, and an extremely relieved Menellion who embraced and kissed his wife for many long minutes in front of everyone, and she let him. After we had recovered ourselves a bit, we located the horses and packed up to leave. 

Just as Lady Fânwen was mounting her horse, Lalaithion walked up to her and offered her an apple. "For the Lady," he said, with an elaborate bow. He smirked slightly, but I could see the apprehension on his face.

Fânwen stopped in front of him and took the fruit, a very stern and almost nasty look on her face. I made as if to intervene and Legolas put out a hand to stop me. Fânwen opened up the apple and peered inside, only to have a sleepy little worm reach its head out and blink at her. 

I winced, but to the delight of all, Fânwen laughed, a boisterous, musical sound that permeated throughout the camp. Everyone turned at the sound, as none of us had ever heard it before. It was beautiful, almost magical in its tenor, and made all of us smile. She slugged him with the fruit, which made all of us laugh as well. 

"Very funny," she said good-naturedly. "Now I suggest you get on your horse before that poor worm comes looking for you for disturbing his slumber!"

"Yes, my Lady," Lalaithion said, giving another elaborate bow.

"And for Ilúvatar's sake," Fânwen said, with a wide grin, "Do something with your hair, Lalaithion!" 

Everyone laughed loudly. We finished packing and headed off, just as the sun fully arose in the sky. We had no more problems that day.

********

"_Faroth-yes met_!"—"It hunts us!" _Celebithil_—"Silver-moon" "_galad-o orë nîn_"—"light of my heart" "_Hannon-le, mellon nîn_"—"Thank you, my friend" 

********

And there is Chapter 6. I hope it answered a lot of questions for everyone, and I hope that everybody understands Fânwen now. Sorayaiel will be very curious as to why she was not told the full story of what happened to her parents, so we can foresee that coming up. 

I hope the canon-police don't come after me for having the Nazgûl here. I'll label this AU just in case. I know they were in Dol Guldôr for a long time, even after the Necromancer was discovered to be Sauron, so I would assume that some of the Mirkwood elves would have had experiences with them. I have messed with time a little bit, but I hope not too much. I have gone with Orlando Bloom's estimate of Legolas's age to be 2, 931 years old, though I do not know where he got that number. Therefore Sorayaiel is 4 years younger than he, at 2,927 years old. Fânwen is approximately two hundred years older than Sorayaiel so therefore it is possible for her to be there when Dûrborion and Pellalómë died. 

I also realize that the Nazgûl were terrorizing the hobbits for part of this time, but we can estimate that this was a little before the incidents in Bree and the drowning at the Ford of Brunien. If this part of the story is totally off-canon or totally unbelievable I will try to change it in the final draft but right now I really like this how it is. Everyone please let me know.

Next chapter: closer to Imladris! 

Thanks for reading and thank you for the reviews. More soon. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Disclaimer—everything is owned by Tolkien enterprises; I'm just borrowing.

Rated—PG-13

Author Notes—Will be at the end of the chapter, but let's just warn that this chapter is a little AU, you'll see why. Also, be prepared for a lot of character musing in the beginning of this chapter! Also the first 6 chapters have been tweaked a little; not enough to alter any of the story, but just to get rid of some typos and a mini-Balrog ("Morgorth"—good god, he about burnt down my apartment!). And now that I have figured out how to do several formatting things, they have been fixed also. 

Responses to Reviews—

Dragon-of-the-North—Chapter 5—Yes, all males are alike, I would think. Even our beloved elf-men would probably have some terribly annoying habits that would make their women nuts. LOL

I am glad that you like Legolas and Sorayaiel's interactions. Galadriel can obviously kind of read people's minds, so I am just playing on this fact and trying to show the very strong bond between elven spouses. The telepathy thing is only going to deepen as things go on. 

I'm really glad you like my elves! They are taking me over and I'm loving how they are developing. 

Chapter 6 Reviews—I'm glad everybody likes what happened. Fânwen is going to get better and better as time goes on, I promise. Also thanks for letting me know that I didn't commit a horrible canon offense! 

Nilmandra—you are absolutely right! Mirkwood elves should know better, and they've learned their lesson, as you shall see later.

Amanda Pal—(via e-mail) thanks for the kind words! There is not another place where this story is on the net, YET, but eventually I'll put it up on my poor neglected site that I never touch anymore! 

Aranel—thanks tons for the advice! If no one has read Aranel's stories, do so, they are beautifully written. And it's totally a coincidence that my Legolas's nana is named Aranel! Haha.

And now, Chapter 7

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Return to Me, Chapter 7

Several days passed uneventfully. We saw no more of the dreaded Nazgûl, though several times we ran into wolves and giant spiders. We had taken to sleeping in the trees, after one particularly tense night when Tasarë was awakened by a rather small spider (a spy, we believed) who had sneaked past that evening's watch to take a bite out of the unsuspecting warrior's leg. It had taken Galenparth nearly the rest of the night to get the poison out of poor Tasarë's system, using athelas and several other strange herbs. After that, Nurhoth and Legolas forbade sleeping on the ground—we took our bedrolls to the trees (after thoroughly inspecting them for more arachnids), who gladly welcomed us. 

We made our way down through the wood, following the river, to the Old Forest Road, taking care to avoid wildmen and anyone else suspicious. It was dangerous now, but had served the wood-elves for so long that we felt we could handle ourselves. It was also the most direct route to the mountains and Imladris. Once again, the trees would help us. We would just blend into the leaves until whatever danger threatened had passed.

As a matter of fact, things were so easy and uneventful that Nurhoth and Legolas became nervous. The mood most of the time was fair, light-hearted even, and the captain and prince shared these feelings. But always in the back of my husband's mind there lurked an apprehension, an unease that this was the calm before the storm, that something ill would befall us ere too long. This was partly due to his being Thranduil's son and therefore a little paranoid by nature, but it also had to do with experience in the deep forests of Mirkwood. It was seldom that a journey went completely well. I suspected that Nurhoth, Menellion, and probably Fânwen felt it too; Legolas was an accomplished warrior but even he did not have the years of experience that the older elves did. 

Fânwen herself had brightened considerably. She was still quiet and reserved, but now interacted with everyone in camp including Lalaithion. She and I had come to a congenial understanding that, I hoped, would with time develop into close friendship. Indeed, my heart filled with joy every time I heard the music of her silky laughter echoing through the camp. Laughter was very becoming to her; it made her cheeks rosy and enhanced her ageless beauty. 

Menellion too relished the changes in his wife. He smiled constantly and was quick to jokingly tease her. He became much more of the light and amusing fellow that we had seen glimpses of previously when his wife was not present. He also frequently tried to steal a kiss from her, much to everyone else's delight and Fânwen's gigglish embarrassment. Happily, most of the time she let him. Though she had always loved him unconditionally, she had had trouble showing him or allowing others to see it. Now that she had finally opened up, it was easier for her to show her devotion to him and did not mind if any of us saw it. I daresay she took example from Legolas and me, as well. 

Legolas and I had always been very open with our affection for each other, ever since we had confessed our feelings to Nana and Ada all those years earlier. Obviously we would never do anything inappropriate in front of the others (beyond our only slightly embarrassing incident the first evening), but we now felt close enough to them as to not feel uncomfortable giving each other a quick kiss or loving embrace if the impulse came upon us. Anything more intimate we saved for thoughts and dreams, though I must admit that there were a lot of these on that long, long road to Imladris.

Our growing closeness to the others brought me great joy, which in turn pleased Legolas to no end. I quickly got to know each of our companions and genuinely liked all of them. Legolas did as well, especially with the captain. He looked up to Nurhoth and greatly admired his leadership skills. Nurhoth was a wonderful leader, strict and reserved, yet quite personable and quick to smile. It was he who began to spar with me, slowly teaching me how to use my father's sword in a capable manner. I was still a novice at sword-fighting, even as the days went on, but the captain promised that he would continue to teach me, even after we returned home to Mirkwood.

Our other companions were equally as congenial. Tasarë was very loyal to Mirkwood and seemed very trustworthy. I was told that he was a great fighter, though thankfully we had not yet had to see him in action. He also loved to tell us stories of old and sang great ballads in his clear, sweet voice. 

Galenparth became Lalaithion's partner-in-crime, both of them sources of constant laughter and good-natured frustration. Yet Galenparth was quite serious when it came to the needs of others, especially when someone was hurt, as was the case with Tasarë and the spider. 

Gloriavas was quietest of all of us, yet when he did speak, whether it was to relay the weather or join Tasarë in telling us a story of the deep histories of Middle-earth, it was so eloquently that even the trees were moved. He was also a wonderful listener, genuinely concerned with what other people had to say. He gave the best advice of anyone I had ever met, save my brother Arahil.

Gloriavas, in fact, reminded me so much of Arahil, from his quiet personality to his dark, dark hair and even his slightly-crooked smile, that my heart ached with missing my brother. This was the longest we had ever been parted, as every time I had ever gone on a trip previously, he had been there. I missed my Ada as well, and even my standoffish brother Mellossë, who I continued to worry about. When these moments overwhelmed me, I sought out Lalaithion for a laugh, Tasarë for a story, or Gloriavas or Fânwen for a long talk. 

I did miss my family, and despite the reason for our journey, I still managed to enjoy myself for most of the trip. Above all I enjoyed becoming closer to Fânwen and looked forward to seeing Arwen Undómiel. Legolas was quite pleased that I was becoming close to everyone, but I was especially thrilled with the prospect of female companionship. It was true that there were ladies at court and in the palace, but I never became close to any of them. This was another reason why I quite hoped that Arahil and Mellossë would marry, though I knew that this would not happen for a long time, as Arahil was too shy and Mellossë was a bit too fond of comely maidens to bond permanently with someone. 

As much as I loved my husband, Adar, and brothers, I desperately missed both my birth naneth and Nana Aranel, who had raised me to maturity and helped mold me into the _elleth_ I had become. There are times when a female needs another female to talk to, and I had wanted this desperately for a long time. Arwen and I were friends; we communicated often by letters, but I had not seen her in person for many years. Thus I was ecstatically intrigued at the prospect of a friendship with Lady Fânwen, and began to harbor much hope for the future. 

*****

Such was the state of things when the day finally came that we finished crossing the Misty Mountains. Legolas, Nurhoth, and Tasarë were constantly on guard, forsaking sleep to be on alert for wildmen, orcs, or Nazgûl, who could come from anywhere in these treacherous rocks. It was also slow-going with the horses; several times we had to dismount and lead them through the particularly hard passages. 

Finally one warm evening we came through the mountains and made camp in a small grove of trees, as Imladris was still another three days' journey. Morale was high, boosted by the thought that the hard part was over, and the even _better_ thought of the feasting that awaited us. Though the reason for the meetings in Imladris was grim, we could still count on the House of Elrond to feed everyone well. Lord Peredhil prided himself on the warmth and hospitality of the Last Homely House and always provided food fit for kings. As tired as we were all becoming of lembas, this was quite an incentive to travel quickly. 

It was this feast we were speaking of when finally I dismounted and rubbed Dîndal's tired legs. I did not hear the conversation for several moments, as I spoke to the horse and removed my supplies from her back. We elves used no saddles but we did place a blanket and bags over our horses' backs. I also gave her the now customary nightly apple. She took it from me, knickering affectionately, and went to join the other horses 

". . . And mashed potatoes, smothered in gravy," Galenparth was saying as he lit a fire. "Mmm, I can almost smell them."

"How about those candied yams they always have?" Lalaithion asked. 

"I am quite looking forward to Lord Glorfindel's apple pie," Fânwen said. "It has been _years _since I have tasted it. . . he uses the ripest apples and it is _sooo_ very good."

"Are you sure it is his _pie _that you are looking forward to?" Lalaithion said with a smirk and a raised brow. 

Fânwen flushed crimson and did not answer, causing all the males including Menellion to laugh out loud. "I do not know what you are talking about," she said haughtily, making them all laugh harder. 

Her eyes narrowed and it looked as if she might yell at them when suddenly Tasarë turned serious and said, "I hear something."

He walked to the western side of the camp. "Someone is approaching, not far away." He shielded his eyes from the setting sun.

"Orcs?" Menellion asked, squinting to look himself. 

"Nay," Tasarë replied. "They appear to be _nogothrim_."

Lalaithion snorted. "They certainly _sound_ like dwarves," he said.

Indeed, they did. I was surprised that every orc from Dol Guldûr was not pursuing them, for the racket they made. We could hear two members of their party of twelve arguing with each other, much to the apparent amusement of the others. 

"Ai!" Legolas suddenly exclaimed, from my left side. Everyone turned to look at him. His voice was full of dismay and even disgust, two emotions I did not normally associate with my husband, as he said, "Look who is their leader."

I turned back to the dwarf-party and squinted against the sun. Instantly I saw that the leader was one of the arguers. He was riding on a small brown, bow-legged pony who looked utterly bored. The dwarf himself was square and stout, as all dwarves were, with a full, graying beard and an enormous helmet over his head. His callused hands held the reigns tightly as he sat full and assured in the saddle. He had the most enormous axe I had ever seen strapped to his back; it went up over his head. I recognized him instantly.

"That _cannot_ be Gloin," I said breathlessly, shocked to recognize one of the thirteen who among other things had traveled to Mirkwood with the hobbit Bilbo Baggins some years earlier. 

"Indeed, it is," Nurhoth frowned, his voice sounding every bit as dismayed as Legolas's had.

I felt it too. It was true that there was usually much animosity between elves and dwarves, but things would probably be uncomfortable and downright hostile in Imladris if we met up with Gloin. Though Ada had apologized (and even proclaimed Bilbo elf-friend) for imprisoning the dwarves and hobbit, I doubted sincerely that any of the dwarves had forgiven him. It _had_ been rather hasty to imprison them, but in Ada's defense, those were trying times when strangers usually were not to be trusted, least of all thirteen dwarves and an odd little _perian_. Luckily Mithrandir had arrived soon after their daring escape to explain them; eventually the dwarves had even united with the Mirkwood elves and a force of eagles and men in a rather serious battle. From my previous experiences with dwarves, however, I knew that they were slow to let go of a grudge. I knew for sure, at least, that those dwarves were part of the reason that Ada Thranduil was thought to have such a temper—_part_ of the reason, at least.

"They are headed this way," Galenparth noted.

Legolas shook his head. "This is _not_ going to be pleasant," he said. 

"Yes, especially since he seems to be in such a foul mood," I replied. "I wonder why they are fighting?"

"I do not know," Fânwen said, squinting harder. "But does not the one with whom he is fighting look odd?"

I looked more closely. She was right; there was something strange about the dwarf who was fighting with Gloin. This dwarf was still stout and round, but seemed softer somehow, despite the heavy armor present. It looked somewhat younger as well, with long, bushy reddish hair and piercing eyes, and no beard.

I heard Fânwen's sharp intake of breath as she also realized what I had just seen. The dwarf was beardless! I had never seen a dwarf without a beard, so this could only mean one thing.

"It is a female," Fânwen said softly, the surprise evident in her voice.

Everyone started in surprise. "I have always been told that even their women had beards," Lalaithion said with a small chuckle.

"I had heard that as well," Nurhoth said, placing a hand on Lalaithion's shoulder. "Though I doubted it was true. I am surprised to see her though—even I have never seen a female dwarf, not in all my years of travels."

We all marveled at this, I think. Between us there were nearly one hundred thousand years of life, and none of us had ever seen or heard of a female dwarf. Of course, though I am ashamed to admit this now, I must say that none of us had ever had any concern for dwarves, other than suspicion and hostility, to even care about the females of their race. 

They were getting closer. I heard what I thought was the female's voice; it was very gruff and sounded so much like a male dwarf's voice that it was hard to tell. "Why am I allowed no weapon, Gloin?" She was demanding. "You give me no straight answers. Do you wish me to be killed?"

"Of course not!" Gloin exclaimed, indignantly. He sounded utterly exasperated. "It is just not right for a woman to be so armed."

"Not right!" The female's mouth dropped open. "And I suppose you would think it right for your wife to be felled by orcs?"

__

His wife? I thought. I felt Legolas shrug. He was just as surprised as I.

"She is right," a younger dwarf said harshly, riding up alongside Gloin and his wife. His hair and beard were reddish like the woman's and he had her piercing gaze; I assumed they were related somehow. "Even the elves allow their women to learn how to defend themselves."

"Did I ask for your opinion, Gimli?" Gloin said, glaring at the younger dwarf, who bowed his head and allowed his pony to fall back a few steps—nearly falling off of the beast in the process. He was quite obviously not a rider.

"Besides," Gloin continued. "What else would you expect from elves? They let their women run rampant and do as they please."

"You are an imbecile," The dwarf-woman said, glaring at her husband whilst voicing the opinion that we elves shared with her. I saw the one called Gimli stifle a smile. 

Gloin did not answer but muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Suddenly a white-haired dwarf cleared his throat and said, "Speaking of elves. . . "

We had been seen. A huge scowl formed on Gloin's face; Legolas frowned. We stepped forward to meet them as they closed the distance between us.

"Greetings, Master Dwarf," Legolas said to Gloin as all the dwarves dismounted. He tried his best to sound friendly as he said, "I am Legolas Thranduilion." He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed to the dwarf, whose scowl deepened.

"I know who you are," he said rudely. "Though I doubt that the elvenking's son would remember that I am Gloin, son of Groin."

"He remembers," Nurhoth said coldly, before Gloin could further insult the prince of Mirkwood. "As do we all, Master Dwarf. Pray tell us, what brings you this way?"

"We have been invited to Rivendell to participate in Lord Elrond's council," Gloin replied. There was a provocation in his voice, as if he was daring us to question or challenge him.

In his head, Legolas cursed, wanting to do just that. Out loud he said, "As are we. It is a grave business that I hope will end quickly."

"Aye," Gloin said, begrudgingly agreeing. He then looked up to notice two of the less discreet members of our party regarding the dwarf-woman with much interest. "Is something amusing about my wife?" Gloin asked angrily.

"No sir," I replied, glaring at Galenparth and Lalaithion. "Forgive them, they have had little interaction with your people, particularly your women."

He snorted. His wife said, "I might say the same thing of your people. I am Glís, Gloin's wife and daughter of Oin." 

"Greetings, Lady Glís," I said, curtsying to her. "I am Sorayaiel Thranduiliel, wife of Legolas."

Introductions were then made all around, whereupon we learned that Gimli was, in fact, Gloin and Glís's son. Glís was somewhat more hospitable to us, though I think she was doing it to spite her husband. I could see why it was that most folk could not differentiate between dwarf-women and men. Other than her beardless face, there was nothing about her that said "female." Her voice was every bit as deep and gravelly as her husband's. She was built the same and carried herself in a similar manner. Even her breasts were hidden by all of the bulky armor she was wearing, which I supposed was to make up for her lack of a weapon. 

On that matter I certainly agreed with Glís and Gimli: the female dwarf needed to be able to defend herself. I did not know much about dwarf culture, but I found it difficult to believe that they would allow their women to travel unarmed and defenseless, especially in these troubled times. I suspected that this was Gloin's own policy; I thought it extremely stupid and selfish, and from the attitudes of his wife and son, I knew they agreed. Gloin was going to get his wife killed if he kept up with this chauvinistic attitude.

Of course it was not _my_ place to say anything, so I did not. Indeed, after introductions, there was a very awkward silence. After all, what did dwarves have to say to elves, really, especially since two of those elves were the children of one who had done them a great wrong? Nothing, usually, beyond hostilities and insults. We did not want to be antagonistic now, as we would probably have to spend some time with the dwarves in Imladris. 

It was Nurhoth who broke the silence. "Have any of your party seen sign of orcs?"

"Nay," Gloin answered, his brow furrowed. "Not even one time. There is something odd about that."

"Indeed, there is," Nurhoth agreed. "It unsettles me very deeply. Have you seen any other odd creatures? Something flying perhaps?"

Gloin looked even more puzzled. "No, we have not seen anything that flies, other than an eagle occasionally. My son once thought he saw a creature similar to the Gollum that Master Bilbo encountered, but I told him that this could not be, as your people have him captive and would not be so careless as to let him escape."

Not one of we elves said a word, but inwardly Legolas flinched. I felt utter dismay overtake him, as well as anger at the dwarf for pointing out something that both of us had overlooked: the reactions of Imladris to our loss of the captive Gollum. Was that how Lord Elrond and Mithrandir would view our loss of the creature? Would they think we had been careless? Uncertainty washed over Legolas: would they even be angry? And if so, what would he, as representative of our kingdom, do about it? I did not know what to say to my husband. I smiled slightly with what I hoped was a reassuring look; he made no response. 

Gloin broke the second awkward pause. "Yes, well, I suppose we should be on our way. We got a late start today so I want to travel a few more miles before we rest."

Legolas thought (probably correctly) that Gloin just wanted to distance his camp from ours, but that was fine with him as it was with me, and, I supposed, with the other members of our party.

"Well then, _navaer_ Master Dwarf; my Lady," my husband said, nodding to them. "I bid you safe journey, and we will see you in Imladris."

"Safe journey to you as well, Master Elf; Mistress," Glis said, nodding to us. I nodded back. Gloin muttered a brief "thank you" as his son gave a nod. The dwarf-party quickly mounted their ponies and set off, opposite the setting sun. We saw them set up camp about four miles ahead of us in another pass. The smell of pipe-weed and their fires drifted quickly into our midst; we did our best to ignore it.

We went about our business into the night, setting up watches and telling stories in the fading light as we ate dinner. Legolas was very quiet and did not take much part in the good-natured mood of the evening. He was very deeply troubled with what to say about Gollum and I suspected that this would only deepen as we got closer to our destination. 

Just as it got fully dark I sat next to him on a log away from the fire, just outside the circle of our companions. I handed him a cup of tea and lay my head on his shoulder. "Do not worry, _caun nîn_," I said softly. 

He said nothing but his thoughts were tired and varied. We sat there for a few moments in silence; eventually his fingers became intertwined in my hair as he quietly pondered. I was used to this, for he often became pensive when he was upset. Usually we ended up in a similar position. 

The great shout that interrupted our reverie was not usual, however—both of us jumped off of the log as if we had just been shocked. We turned to see the others as equally surprised as we were. 

"What was that?" Lalaithion asked.

"It came from the direction of the dwarves," Tasarë replied, quickly climbing to the top of the nearest tree to see what it was. 

A blood-curdling feminine scream and a heavy crash of metal and smoke resounded through the air as Tasarë gave a gasp. "They are under attack!" he said as he scrambled down out of the tree. "At least two hundred orcs, perhaps more!" 

"What? Where did they come from all of a sudden?" Menellion demanded. 

Nurhoth sheathed his sword. "I do not know. Douse the fire and let us go. Quietly now, we must make haste. Stealth shall be our advantage."

I pulled my bow from behind my quiver and fell into line behind Nurhoth, Legolas, Tasarë, and Menellion. Fânwen was behind me with Galenparth, Lalaithion, and Gloriavas bringing up the rear. We quietly sneaked into the darkness to aid the dwarves. I found myself hoping in my heart that the second panicked scream I had heard had not been that of the unarmed and unprepared dwarf-Lady Glís.

*****

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Adar/Ada—Father

__

Naneth/nana—Mother

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elleth—elf-maiden, elf-woman

__

nogothrim—dwarf-folk

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perian—hobbit

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navaer—good-bye

__

Caun nîn—my prince

Sorry for the cliffhanger, I know how people hate them. But the next chapter is a bit long so I thought I should split it up. It will be up soon, I promise no month-long wait this time.

So it seems that Gloin is a bit of a misogynist, lol. This was where the AU came into play. Gimli makes the comment about few dwarf women and the movie Aragorn says that thing about "beards" but I figured that maybe those statements could be taken as a myth, considering that no one knows much about lady dwarves. 

Also I didn't know much of what elves would want in a feast. The insinuating comments toward Lady Fânwen about Glorfindel will be explained. Don't worry, they are quite innocent. 

There was another thing that maybe no one caught that I still thought I should explain. Everyone in Middle-earth always says, "I'm so-and-so, son of so-and-so" so I figured it was appropriate for the women to do it, as well. So in Sorayaiel's case it's a bit complex. She wouldn't go through the whole sordid family history, so to make things easier she would just say "Thranduiliel" which might confuse people because Legolas is "Thranduilion". It confused my roommate anyway. But my reasoning is that since they are married anyway, Thranduil is, in effect, her Adar, and it would be appropriate for her to say this without people who don't know the whole history saying "Wait a minute, you are married to your brother?" Okay glad I explained that just in case. 

Thank you for the reviews and the kind support. More will be up soon.

Next Chapter: Battle with the orcs and the rest of the journey to Imladris, along with more familiar faces.


	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter Eight

Disclaimer--I don't own anything, but borrow obsessively. I try to adhere to canon as much as possible, so if any players are out of character or anything is truly, horridly wrong, please let me know. 

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Rating--Pg-13 usually, though this chapter might be considered R, because of bloody battles, swearing, and naked elves at the end (are you intrigued yet? LOL). 

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Author Notes/Responses to Reviews--will be at the end of chapters from now on because they're getting a little long. Just quickly here, does anyone know why I'm suddenly getting author alerts? I don't have a paid account, and suddenly I am getting them for every author on my favorites list, not just the ones with paid accounts. Weird. 

Also, does anyone else hate THIS: "site experiencing overload..please come back in a few minutes."??? ARGH.

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Chapter Eight

My worst fears were confirmed as we quickly sped through the dark, covering the miles between our camps as quickly as our legs would carry us. Nurhoth silently placed us in a circular rotation in the highest trees surrounding their camp. I frantically searched the ground for the Lady, amidst the smoke wafting high into the sky, the shouts of the dwarves as they tried to figure out what was going on, and the death screams of dwarves and orcs alike.

Finally I located her cowering in front of an old oak tree, away from the others as if they had tried to hide her. She was holding onto her arm and sobbing as if her heart would break. Her face was a mask of terror, pale and contorted into a grimace that made her appear almost ferocious. In fact, she looked as if she desperately wanted to bolt, but the combination of her bulky armor and the paralysis of her sheer terror were apparently preventing her from doing so.

Her son was standing in front of her, doing his best to protect her against several orcs who had found their hiding place. Gimli was like a machine, hewing and chopping in all directions with his enormous axe, chopping off limbs and decapitating the monsters left and right. He was shouting in dwarvish to his naneth--what he was saying I did not know. Never once did he allow an orc to touch her, nor himself. I found myself developing much respect for the young dwarf; respect of course for his formidable fighting skills, but even more for the fierce protection and loyalty he had for his nana. I knew in that split second that he would not stop fighting until he dropped. He would die before he let anything happen to Glís. 

Nurhoth surveyed the scene in a quick moment, then motioned for us to spread out in the trees. He raised his right hand, and as one we raised our bows. He sighted down his own bow and said softly, "_Nauro!_"

His voice was much too low for the orcs to hear, but we elves had no problem at all. As one we loosed our arrows into the thick mass of orcs, our nine arrows felling nine of the foul creatures. It took them completely by surprise; they scrambled to launch a counterattack, firing haphazardly into the trees from where our attack had come. Of course we were no longer there--their arrows hit only dead air split seconds before we let fly from our new positions.

We kept this up for some time, moving from tree to tree, never stopping for more than a moment, felling orc after orc. We moved too quickly for them to see us--it was dark; our green and brown clothing blended effortlessly into the foliage. Chaos and confusion reigned; their ranks began to fall apart as more and more of their comrades were slain. 

The dwarves took heart from this, redoubling their efforts to drive back the marauders. With dismay I saw that several of them lay dead or dying. I could not see Gloin anywhere among the fracas and found myself hoping that he was unharmed.

An elvish cry of pain and dismay snapped my attention back to my companions. Instantly my husband's name came to my lips; he gave a quick passing thought to let me know he was all right. 

Gloriavas had ended up closest to me. "I think that was Lalaithion," he whispered dejectedly, squinting to see in the gloom. We watched as Nurhoth and Galenparth reached down to grab Lalaithion, pulling the injured elf higher into the trees.

I began to offer a silent prayer to Elbereth for the injury to be slight, but my words were interrupted by a muffled scream. I spun around to see that Glís's hiding place had been breached. Gimli was locked in combat with an orc three times his size, frantically trying to get away from it to stop the other one that was advancing on his mother. 

I could take it no longer. I ran through the treetops, with Gloriavas close on my heels. I got close enough to the two dwarves, put away my bow and leaped from the tree, reaching into my quiver to retrieve my long-knives as I did so.

"Milady!" Gloriavas whispered severely, jumping out of the tree after me. He still had his bow and shot through several orcs as I sliced my way to the dwarves' hiding place.

I advanced upon the one whom by now had caught Glís and was straddling her on the ground. Gimli screamed as the orc viciously attacked his mother's face, breathing its foul hot breath on her skin whilst trying to strip her armor off with one hand. The other hand pinned her arms to the ground. It said something to her in the horrid black speech of Mordor, something I did not understand and did not wish to. She screamed and kicked frantically, but the monster was too much for her. If I did not reach her right now, the disgusting _yrch_ would rape her right in front of her son. 

My mind flashed instantly to Lord Elrond's wife, Lady Celebrìan. Was this what it had been like for her in the attack? The look on Glís's face told me that just the touch of the creature's skin was repulsive. Celebrìan's attack had been so severe that she had gone almost immediately to Valinor, as she simply could not live with the pain and memories of her violation. What would it do to Lady Glís, whose spirit and stamina, as a dwarf, were even weaker? 

I would not find out, especially since my next thoughts were of my naneth. I did not know what the orcs had done to her on the day of her death so many years ago, nor did I want to know. Rage welled up in me like a foul black demon, filling up my head with enough darkness and blood-lust as to startle Legolas, across the camp. I rudely and forcibly pushed his consciousness aside in my brain and concentrated all of my thoughts and energy into helping the dwarf woman. As a warrior and especially as a woman, I would not, _could not_ let this happen to her.

I rode the wave of anger, feeding upon the wrath like a vampire as I quickly and quietly crept up behind the evil creature--I had absolutely no qualms about attacking the bastard from behind; in fact I thought he rather deserved to die such a dishonorable death. My seething rage came to a boil as I grabbed the orc around the shoulders with my left arm. I held his head in a vice-grip and before he could even react, my right hand sliced his throat so deeply that I almost severed his head from his neck. 

I could not help it; I let out an instinctively guttural and decidedly un-elf like grunt of satisfaction as the foul thing's steaming blood splattered across my face and tunic. I looked up to see Gloriavas staring at me wide-eyed and surprised, and realized that I must have looked utterly mad. I did not care. I completely ignored him as I kicked the slumping orc as hard as I could, knocking the corpse off of Glís.

"My Lady, are you all right?" I asked as I knelt beside her.

For a moment she only sobbed, then nodded. "My son?" 

In my wrath I had completely forgotten about Gimli. I looked up just as he finally slew the massive beast he had been fighting, chopping an expansive blow to the creature's chest whilst bellowing dwarvish words of triumph. As soon as he had discerned that the creature was dead, he wrenched his axe from its chest, sending chunks of gore flying in all directions, including into his beard.

"I think he is all right," Gloriavas said, clearing his throat, as Gimli rushed over to us.

Glís grasped my hands. "T-thank you," she said simply. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hands back. "Do not think on it, _mellon nîn_. Are you injured?"

I looked up to see Gloriavas with a smile in his eyes. He was amused about something, that was clear, but what it was I did not know. Was he still chuckling at Gimli, or was it because I had referred to the dwarf as my friend?

"I think that I am all right," Glís answered. I helped her to sit up as Gimli reached us. She winced. "I fell down earlier and hurt my arm."

"It is all that damned armor," Gimli said. "It weighs you down too much." He knelt beside his mother and removed her giant helmet and breastplate, tossing them aside. He looked at her for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her in a fierce embrace. He looked at me over the top of her head, saying nothing. His tears said everything. I smiled at him.

"Let us get her out of here," Gloriavas said as another loud boom resounded through the forest. 

Something suddenly burst through the trees to my right. Gloriavas stiffened and would have shot at it had it not shouted to us first. "_Cauneth_!" It was Tasarë. "We need help!" He jumped into a tree.

"We are coming," I replied. I helped Gimli get Glís up into the oak tree, then began to follow Tasarë. "Stay close," I said to the dwarves.

I heard Glís whisper, "I told you they would come to help us!" followed by a grunt from Gimli.

We jumped from tree to tree, helping the dwarves along until we got back to our companions on the other side of the encampment. Galenparth was putting a salve on Lalaithion's arm whilst trying to prevent him from jumping back down into the fray. The others were on the ground, knives and swords out, making a stand beside the remaining dwarves and their axes. I was surprised to see Legolas fighting alongside Gloin, shouting encouragement as Gloin's axe found an orc's face. My husband spun around quickly to dispel another whilst yet another came up behind him. Gloriavas took aim and fired, taking it through the neck. 

"We are still completely outnumbered," he said disdainfully.

"Well then, let us help our comrades!" Gimli exclaimed, jumping from the tree to crush two orcs below. He rebounded swiftly and began to chop through them.

Tasarë had already rejoined the battle; Gloriavas jumped down as well. "Glís, stay here with Lalaithion," I said. "You will be safe--"

"I am _not_ staying here," Lalaithion snapped.

"Yes, you are," Galenparth said firmly. "You were lucky that the arrow only grazed you, but you need to rest that arm."

"No, I do not!" he cried, indignantly, wincing in pain even as he did so. "I am fine!"

We did not have time for this. "No, you are not. You will sit here with the Lady until we can get away from here safely," I said sternly.

"I am not a novice!" he said angrily. "I can handle myself! I will not stay up here with this-this _dwarf_!" he spat.

The anger welled up in me again, frightening me this time with its intensity. I would not tolerate this insubordination, nor did I have the time or patience to deal with his prejudices. I counted to three, trying to get myself under control, to no avail. "You will do as I say," I said, my voice deepening, though I did not raise it. 

He must have seen something in my eyes, or perhaps my gruesome appearance frightened him, because he immediately backed down. "I will stay here," he said dejectedly. "But I must insist that she be given a weapon." 

A reasonable request, one that did nothing to soothe my ire. I did reach into my boot to retrieve my dagger, handing it to Glís hilt-first. "Kill anything that does not identify itself," I said, in the same frightening tone I had used before. I nodded to Galenparth, who was staring at me with widened eyes. He nodded back to me quickly and jumped from the tree. I followed right after him.

I jumped directly down into a mass of orcs and realized immediately that Gloriavas was right. My knives flashed in every direction; I killed one, two, five, ten, yet they still kept coming. I did not even have time to wipe the blood from my eyes as it sprayed on me.

I soon found myself back-to-back with my husband. There was dark blood in his disheveled golden hair and a long streak of it down his face; his tunic was also torn but he looked nowhere near as grisly as I did. His eyebrow flickered with amusement--was he actually enjoying all of this?--but he knew better than to say anything to me.

"_What are we going to do_?" I thought, in between blows.

He slashed and parried. "_I know not. There are far too many of them for us to defeat_."

Nurhoth was suddenly beside us, decapitating an orc easily with his sword. "Highness, we must get out of here!" he shouted. "The dwarves have suffered losses and Lalaithion and Fânwen are injured."

Alarms went off in my head as the rage, which had never really left me, flared up to the boiling point again. I knew Lalaithion would be fine, but what had happened to Fânwen? The fury overtook me again. "_I will kill them all_," I thought madly, "_if they touched her_."

Legolas stared at me. "Calm down, _meleth_," he said softly. It scared me, because I knew that he was alarmed and trying to downplay it. 

Nurhoth must have seen the look on my face, though his own was impassive. "She is all right," he said. "Menellion got her out."

I was relieved but still angry and concerned. I knew Fânwen would be upset, and I hoped that the progress we had made with her would not now be undone. 

I did not have much time to think on this as we were assailed again. I deflected an attack to my right as Legolas buried his knife in an orc's head, to my left. They were closing in on us. Soon all the elves and dwarves stood back-to-back, fighting desperately, running out of room to move. 

Arrows suddenly flew from a tree behind me. "Ai, Lalaithion!" I heard Galenparth mutter with dismay.

The orcs reacted immediately to this distraction, quickly firing a volley of arrows at the tree. "The fool!" Galenparth spat. My heart sank; I prayed that they had not been hit, but knew it was unlikely. 

For a moment I was just as confused as the orcs when a flood of arrows flew at them from the other side of the clearing. Literally hundreds of them hit, sending the orcs flying into a scattering panic, now allowing us room to move. A horn sounded loudly. At last the unadulterated fire that had consumed my soul fled my body and was replaced by a surge of joy. 

"What is that?" a grey-haired dwarf asked.

"_That_ is a Rivendell elf-host, and a rather large one, by the sound of it," Gloriavas answered, happily. 

Something happened then, as elves leapt from the trees and rode in on dark horses, something that I never thought would happen between _edhil _and _nogothrim_: the dwarves cheered and shouted words of welcome--and were answered with cries of _"Mae govannen_!" and kind words of greeting. It was the greatest and most encouraging sight I had ever seen. 

A dark-haired rider on a speckled horse sliced and chopped his way over to us with his sword. I recognized his handsome features even before the broad smile lit up his face all the way to his grey eyes. "_Suilad_, Elladan!" I exclaimed as he dismounted.

"_Mae govannen, mellonath nîn_!" he cried, embracing me heartily. "We thought perhaps you could use some help." He looked me up and down with an arched brow. "You certainly look it."

All around us orcs were meeting grisly ends as Elladan's company of seventy quickly dispatched them. The ones who remained began to flee, pursued ardently by archers on horseback. Another loud cheer arose from all the company. 

Legolas stepped forward to greet Elladan. "Where is your twin?" he asked, as they embraced.

"Oh he is around somewhere," the son of Elrond replied with a smirk.

Sure enough, Elrohir emerged a few moments later, escorting Fânwen, Lalaithion, and Glís with him. "I thought I would pick up a few stragglers," he said with a grin. The grin widened as he caught sight of me. "Ho, Lady Greenleaf, you look terrible."

I glared at him. "At least I can wash it off. You do not have that option."

Everyone laughed including Elrohir. We knew that things were much more serious than our lightened moods belied. Thankfully, Fânwen was not hurt too badly, just a small gash on her head and a sprained ankle. To my tremendous relief, she was not even that upset, but still frustratingly remorseful.

"I am sorry," she said. "It was a stupid error in judgment, I--"

"Do not worry," I said, pulling her into a sisterly embrace which she graciously returned. "Do not blame yourself for anything, as you tend to do entirely too much! I am just glad that you are all right."

"It is I who must apologize," Lalaithion said quietly. "I am sorry for my insolence, Lady Sorayaiel, and I am sorry that I disobeyed orders."

"You are forgiven for that, but there is something else you must apologize for," I said, gesturing toward Lady Glís.

For a moment he looked at me as if I had two heads, then realized what I meant. He turned to Glís, who was standing with her husband and son on either side of her, and knelt down in front of her. "I apologize, _híril nîn_, if I offended you in any way."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are already forgiven," she said with a smile.

Lalaithion hesitated a moment. "It was an honor to fight alongside dwarves," he said, meeting the eyes of Gimli and Gloin. I was instantly proud of him, as was my husband. I knew it had taken a lot for him to say that. We had come to the dwarves' aid without hesitation, but it did not mean that our suspicion or prejudice against them had gone. Lalaithion had proven that. But for him to swallow his pride and admit something like this, it was a big step.

"That it was," Legolas agreed reverently, stepping next to Lalaithion and placing a hand on his shoulder. For a moment everyone was silent, until my husband grinned. "Now, get up, _mellon nîn_. I have seen enough of this serious side of you and I do not think I like it."

Everyone laughed as Lalaithion rolled his eyes and stood. "Yes, I know what you mean, Prince Legolas. Now that Lords Elladan and Elrohir are here, I have competition, and I must…prepare." He bowed to all and walked away. Now that was the Lalaithion I knew, and I was surely glad he was back.

Plans were made to assess the damages to the dwarf-camp and figure out what to do with the rest of the night. Three of their company had died and the dwarves were devastated. They moved slowly through the camp, picking through orc corpses and debris to find their belongings, as the Imladris elves helped them to sing a lament to their fallen friends.

We Mirkwood elves made plans to go back to our camp and retrieve our horses and supplies, and then we would merge all three camps into one. Before we could leave, however, Glís and a very dour-looking Gloin approached Legolas and me.

Glís nudged her husband, who cleared his throat, looked down and said, "Lady Thranduiliel?"

"Yes, Master Gloin?" I asked.

"I would like-I would like to thank you for saving my wife. I don't know what I would have done if-"

"If she had died?" I replied, raising my eyebrows. "Do you not think that this may have been prevented?" I asked, hoping I was not overstepping my bounds. "By this, I mean that if she had been armed properly, she may not have become stuck in such a compromising position."

"I realize that now," he said gruffly. "From this incident, and by the request of my son, she will begin training in Rivendell."

"Good," I said. "You do not have to say anymore. As for me, I did what anyone would have done. And I-I believe I would now consider your wife a friend. I do not let my friends get hurt."

Glís smiled a tear in her eye. "Thank you, my friend," she said, stepping forward to embrace me. I returned the hug, smiling warmly at her. After a moment she turned, smiling at Legolas, who smiled back at her. She took Gloin's hand and went off to help the others.

I turned to Legolas, who had watched the entire event with a wry grin on his fair face. "Gloin thanked you," he said slowly, counting on his fingers. "You went berserk and slew more orcs than the rest of us combined, _and_ you have befriended an dwarf-maiden. Adar will never believe it."

"No one will," I said, laughing. "Especially the part about Gloin thanking me." I scratched at the dried blood on my face. "Ai, may we find somewhere to wash before we travel back to the camp? I am starting to itch."

"You are starting to smell, too, my love," he said, wrinkling his nose. 

I hit him in the arm, evoking light laughter. "You are becoming quite ripe yourself, Greenleaf," I replied, leaning in to sniff at his blood and sweat-stained tunic. 

We found some clothes to borrow and made our way to a stream. There were other elves and dwarves in it but we managed to find a secluded spot where we might have some privacy. I did not hesitate, but stripped off my soiled and heavy tunic and leggings and immersed my entire body in the frigid water. When I stood up it came up to my chest, my wet hair flying in all directions. Legolas came in right after me, immersing his face in the water quickly and flattening down his hair with water.

"You know, it is almost a shame," he said, regarding me thoughtfully as I used the soap to scrape the dried blood from my face. "Actually, I rather liked you looking that way."

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I began to lather up my hair. 

"When you were fighting. This is the first time I have seen you in such fierce combat, spinning around with your knives flashing in the moonlight. I must say, I found it rather, ah, fetching."

Was he crazy? "Are you sure you were not hit by a poisoned arrow?" I asked, glancing at his bare back.

He chuckled. "No, I was not. I am talking about the way you move. There was so much grace in your step as you parried; it was almost like a dance, and the best part was that you were not even conscious of it. I saw such focus and determination in your face. And your hair was whipping out behind you…Even in the midst of battle I can still find you…exceedingly attractive."

"Even covered in blood and dirt and overcome with murderous rage?" I asked, only half-joking.

"You are quite comely when you are angry, my dear," he said with another grin. "I do not think I have ever noticed it before."

I frowned at him. "That is because I have never been that angry, not ever. I do not know what came over me."

"I know," my husband said softly, taking the soap from me to run it through his hair. "You thought of Celebrìan."

"I did," I confessed. "And my mother. I do not know what was done to her, and I cannot bear to think of it. I could not let it happen to Glís." 

He stopped and placed his hands on my now-clean face. "I am proud of you, _Celebithil_," he whispered. "You did a noble thing, which was perhaps helped along by what I would call 'righteous anger.' Do not be like Fânwen and deny your emotions. As you have just discovered, they can often be a good thing."

I regarded him warily. I knew he was just saying this to reassure me--he had been alarmed and perhaps even frightened at my odd outburst of anger. I still did not know whether it was a product of the battle, at seeing what could have happened to Glís, but I hoped this was the case. I hoped that it would never happen to me again. 

I did not want to fight with him, so I decided to just be quiet and let him comfort me. "Why do you always know the right thing to say?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Because I am perfect in every way?" I glared at him. "Ooh, are you going to get angry? Please, get angry. I want to see it again!" he said laughing, sounding like an excited child.

I hit him again. "No, I am not angry, you silly elfling." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as he laughed again and bent down to wash his legs. "Perfect in every way, indeed," I muttered. 

"Yes, that is me," he said, beaming mischievously as he had done so many times over the years.

I cocked my head and regarded his lithe, graceful form as he bathed. "Well maybe not in _every_ way, but certainly in _some_ ways." He looked up, his mouth open in mock surprise as my own grin widened suggestively and my eyes traveled over his whole body. "Yes, in several ways I would say." 

That got the furious blush I had been aiming for to spread over his face. I laughed silently and said, "Come, husband. I think we are clean enough." I began to emerge from the stream. He came out a moment later. We dried and dressed, then met up with the other Mirkwood elves. We found our horses and belongings, then rejoined the others in the combined camp. 

I slept like a rock that night on the ground in my bedroll, with my husband's arms around me. I was so grateful to the Valar that we were all alive and unharmed, full of delight in friends new and old, and hopeful that our stay in Imladris would be pleasant and quick. It was a nice way to be. 

********

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Nauro--Fire!

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Mellon nîn--my friend

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Cauneth--princess

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Meleth--love

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Edhil--elves

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Nogothrim--dwarves, dwarf-folk

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Suilad--greetings, hello

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Mae govannen--well-met

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Híril nîn--my Lady

********

Thank you to everyone for reading. I hope this chapter was okay, not too much gore and nasty stuff. I don't think I'm very good at battle scenes, so feedback will be much appreciated. 

Does everyone like Glís? She'll be in it more in Imladris. I couldn't help but think while I'm writing this that Thranduil's gonna have a cow when he finds out that his daughter has befriended a dwarf (dwarfette?). And don't worry, Gloin isn't going to be all nice and sweet now, nor is Gimli. Remember we still have the Council of Elrond coming up. 

Also, I know that Tolkien doesn't specifically come out and say that Celebrìan was raped, but I think it's implied. 

****

Responses to Reviews--dragon-of-the-north--goodness you mean that was a short review?? Lol!! Glad you like the dwarves, it is sad what happened to them in this chapter, but at least now Gloin has learned his lesson. Don't worry, Glorfindel is coming up, I promise. He is one of my favorite characters, and we will definitely find out what is going on. I too love Fânwen and can assure you that she has a big role in things to come. Thanks so much for your reviews; they are always so nice and helpful.

Daw-the-minstrel--like I said, I don't think I'm very good at battle scenes so I hope this was okay! I am enjoying writing in the first person very much, though it limits what we can see of the story to Sorayaiel's point of view only, though we do get glimpses into Legolas, which we will get a lot more of as time goes on. 

Nilmandra--you are very right about neighbors. In my story the Rivendell and Mirkwood elves have a good relationship, though I really don't know if that was the case in the books. Glís will have some more to do in the next couple of chapters. I really like her a lot and soon we'll get to see how much she and Gimli are alike. 

Flamin' Butterfly--yes, sometimes it would suck to know your spouse's every thought, as we shall find out later. As for foster relationships blooming into romance, perhaps you have heard of Aragorn and Arwen? This will be addressed later.

Thank you to all for reviews and feedback, it is greatly appreciated. Next chapter: Imladris.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine 

**Disclaimer**—no money is made from my endeavour to entertain you with my probably bad attempts at imitating Master Tolkien.  I do it for enjoyment only, and boy do I ever.  

**Rating**—PG-13 nothing bad in this chapter at all though.  Probably more PG

**Author Notes**—sorry for taking so long, I know there is no excuse.  I thought that since I would be home from school for the summer, I could get a lot of this done.  I guess not.  Work sucks.  Because I have made you wait so long, this chapter is massive.  I'm talking freaking huge.  Enjoy.  

I'm still getting author alerts, I have no idea why but I'm not complaining.  

Here in this chapter we FINALLY arrive in Imladris.  I know I could not have postponed it any longer.  This is a discussion-heavy chapter, sorry, no shoot-em-up this time, but there'll be a lot more later.  Expect lots of familiar faces from here on out.  Now we are finally getting into the action of the story.  Nine chapters in.  Meh.

Oh and any discussions or mentionings of things in the past (specifically in the scene with Bilbo and Legolas) are referring to things that will happen in the prequel to this story, part of which is up now under the title In the Garden.  Sorry for the shameless plug but I thought I should explain that a little in case someone read that and wondered what was going on.

Oh one more plug, and then I'm done I promise.  Some time within the next couple of days, when I fix my formatting and stuff, this story will be uploaded to , a new site created by Nilmandra, daw the minstrel, and a bunch of other great authors from fanfiction.net.  Updates will continue to be posted here, but I really suggest the site.  It's really easy to use and very well-organized, not to mention, that some of the best Tolkien authors I've ever read are on there.  

Okay finally!!

**Chapter Nine**

The next morning arrived with the sun high in the sky.  I had slept well after the exhausting events of the previous night.  I woke up feeling greatly refreshed and quite anxious to get to Imladris.

Great enough were the numbers of the Rivendell-host that none of the dwarves or Mirkwood elves had been needed to keep watch.  In fact, they let us all sleep in.  When I awoke, Legolas was of course still deeply asleep, as were Fânwen and Menellion close by.  Elladan and Elrohir, however, were up and supervising the packing of supplies, looking as if they had been awake for hours.  

After braiding my hair and making myself presentable in my extra tunic, I made my way over to the sons of Elrond.  "Well, good morning, sleepy head," Elrohir laughed.

"It _is_ a good morning," I said, with a smile.  "Thank you for letting us sleep late."

Elladan raised a dark brow.  "Then I would guess you are in a more pleasant mood than last evening?"

"Yes," I replied.  "Very much so.  Actually, I want to apologise for my uncouth behaviour.  I let my anger take control of me and I know it was inappropriate and unbecoming—"

"On the contrary," Elladan said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.  "You were _quite becoming, in my opinion."_

"Oh yes, I rather enjoyed it also," Elrohir said, laughing again.

I just stared at them.  I was beginning to think that all of the males in my life had gone insane; this thought was even stronger a moment later when Legolas walked up, placed an arm around my waist and said, "Good morning, my lords.  I see you have already met my wife, the fiercest and most beautiful orc-slayer this side of Dol Guldur."

The twins laughed at the fierce look I gave my husband.  "Yes, we were just discussing the lady's fighting skills," Elrohir said.

"Or something like that," Elladan said, with a wink.  

Legolas laughed, knowing very well what we had been talking about.  

"I am glad you all think this is so amusing," I said, not really angry with them but wanting to stress how serious I thought this was.  "I admit it helped me in the battle, allowed me to save Glís, but it was a bit frightening and frankly, I am a little concerned."

"Like I said last night, I would not worry about it right now, dear," Legolas said, squeezing me tighter.  "I do not like to see you so troubled, but at this moment we have bigger concerns than your anger management problem."

"Also, if it really concerns you that much, perhaps you should speak to Adar when we get back to Imladris?" Elrohir suggested.  

That sounded like a perfect idea to me.  If anyone could put my mind at ease about this, it would be Lord Elrond.  "I think I will do just that," I replied, smiling.

"Now that is what I like to see," Legolas said, kissing my cheek.

An hour later everyone was awake and ready to go.  We set off for Imladris, nearly eighty elves and the nine remaining dwarves composing the largest travelling party I had ever been involved with.  It was a perfect day for travelling, sunny but not too warm, with a pleasant breeze to ruffle the horses' hair.  There was no sign of the few remaining orcs; indeed, the closer we got to Imladris, the more I could feel the protection of Elrond's Ring over the valley.

The rest of the journey was pleasant and uneventful, most of it spent riding alongside the twins, catching up on things, including several extremely interesting bits of news we had known nothing about.  We also told the twins of our frightening encounter with the Nazgûl.  They were shocked and horrified, because they had been scouting for them for some time, to no avail.  

"So where is Estel?" Legolas asked, soon after the journey had started.  "I am surprised he did not come with you."  

Elrohir's face clouded.  "Adar sent him after the halflings.  Mithrandir was supposed to meet them in Bree but since he was incapacitated…" He trailed off, sounded very worried. 

Elladan finished his thought, though he sounded equally concerned.  "They had not returned for several days, and since the Nine are abroad, naturally Adar is upset.  He sent Lord Glorfindel out to look for them, the last we heard."

"Good," I said.  "If anyone can find them, he can."  

"Yes, that was Adar's thinking," Elladan said.  He sighed.  "Though it does not help to ease the anxiety of any of us."  

"I can imagine," Legolas said, glancing at me.

"I cannot remember the last time Adar was so worried," Elrohir said.  "Arwen is nearly beside herself, as well."  

"Oh yes," Elladan continued with a half-smirk.  "Our sister is near to ripping her hair out when our scouts come back each night with no news of her beloved."      

"Her _what_?" Legolas and I said at exactly the same time.

Elladan turned on his horse to stare at us for a moment.  "You mean you do not know?"

"Aragorn and the Evenstar are betrothed," Elrohir said.  

I could not help it, my mouth dropped open.  Fânwen, who was riding to the right of me, snapped her head around suddenly to look at Elrohir.  I think she was trying to see if he was joking, which for Elrohir would not have been an odd thing.  Legolas just stared at the younger of the twins.  

After a moment my husband cleared his throat.  "And _when_ did this happen?"  he asked.  

Elladan thought for a moment.  "Nearly forty years ago, now," he finally answered.  "Estel went to see Arwen in Lothlórien.  Remember she was staying with our grandparents for a time?"  

Legolas nodded.  

"Well, he went there to see her.  Apparently they confessed their love for each other, and are betrothed."  Elladan shrugged.  

"What-what does your Adar think of this?" I asked slowly.  

Elrohir sighed again.  "It is complicated," he said.  "He is not happy about it, but at the same time, I think he is pleased."  

I understood exactly what he meant.  I expected that Elrond would be very conflicted by what was happening.  He would of course be very upset that Arwen had pledged her love to a mortal, for each time this had happened in the past it had ended tragically.  However, part of Elrond would be pleased that she had chosen Estel.  Estel had been raised in their household after his mother's death.  He was like a third son to Lord Elrond, one of the Dunedain, and, as he had so recently found out, the heir to the throne of Gondor.  He was the direct descendant of Isildur himself, he who so long ago had made the fatal mistake of not casting Sauron's evil Ring into the chasm of Mount Doom.  Most of all he was a good man, a brave man, who had loved his foster-family with a kind of fierce pride and loyalty.  Yes, I could see how complicated it was.

I sat on my horse in a bit of shocked silence.  Why had Arwen mentioned nothing of this in her letters?  For nearly forty years, she had spoken not one word of it.  Estel too had said nothing.  He had just been in Mirkwood earlier in the year with Mithrandir to entrust Gollum to us.  They had stayed for three days, but in all that time, even during our late nights of stories and discussions, he had said nothing.  

Legolas' mind was whirling as well.  However, in addition to being a bit surprised, he was also a little angry with Arwen and Estel.  I found myself agreeing with him.  After all, we, of all people, would have empathized with them.  Our situations were alike in many ways.  Estel had fallen in love with his foster-sister, just as Legolas had fallen in love with me.  Their situation was a bit more complex than ours, yes, but we were no strangers to the predicament and had had to figure out how to deal with our own family.  I was actually a bit hurt that they had not at least told us, let alone come to us for advice.  I pondered this for a few moments, making up my mind to ask Arwen about it when we got to Imladris.  

I shook my head to clear my rambling thoughts.  The mood had sobered considerably which was a very peculiar thing to occur in the presence of the twins.  I decided to try and rescue our playful mood of a few minutes before.

"So," I began.  "Arwen has found someone, but have either of _you_?"  

The utter speed with which the blushes spread over their faces made me laugh out loud.  Legolas too grinned and Fânwen smothered a smile.  

"Err," Elladan said, clearing his throat.    "Not-not exactly."

Elrohir was more direct.  "No."  

"Why ever not?" I asked, with a grin.

 "Because…well…BECAUSE," Elladan said, going even redder.  

This time we could not help it.  Legolas, Fânwen, and I laughed.  Menellion, to Fânwen's right, grinned broadly.  "It looks like you have trodden into a sensitive subject, my Lady," he said.

"Indeed, it does," I replied, with a smirk.  "Elrohir, are you as offended as your brother?"

He shrugged.  "No.  I am just practical.  Believe me, my brother and I do not have a shortage of attractive, available maidens at our disposal—"

Legolas snorted.

Elrohir ignored him.  "—But we choose not to bond with any of them because we are too busy.  I do not think it would be right to wed someone when I am not at home for much of the time."  

That made sense.  Still, he was being awfully haughty about it, and Elladan was offended and bordering upon angry.  For these reasons alone, I knew that the teasing would not stop.  Once we got to Imladris, Lord Glorfindel would probably join with us, though he too was in the notoriously available bachelor's club.  We all rather enjoyed teasing the twins, especially because they spent so much time playing pranks on people and trying to cause good-natured upset to all.  It was just that they put it out better than they took it, which we all found endlessly amusing.  

For the moment I dropped it, after another grin and a wink from Legolas.  He too kept silent, knowing all well what awaited us during the Imladris visit.  I smiled back, glad to see him in good spirits after the events of last night.  He had said no more of the matter, but the problem of what to say about Gollum was there, shoved into a corner of his mind.  He was very worried about the implications of the loss of our captive would be, not only for Mirkwood, but for everywhere else as well.  So was I, but for the moment, we again decided to focus on the here and now, which was decidedly pleasant and easy-going; it did not need to be interrupted by disagreeable thoughts.

********

The next two days passed almost uneventfully, as we descended from the mountains into the fertile valley of Rivendell.  The daylight was spent on horseback, catching up and even gossiping.  The nights were spent around a fire with entertainment abounding in the form of songs, stories, and a hilarious moment when Lalaithion tried to out-drink the grey-haired dwarf.  The dwarves had brought along some of their famous ale, and kindly offered it to everyone.  Most of the elves wisely declined.  We could handle our wine quite well (though I daresay Ada was a bit too fond of the Dorwinian), but ale was another story altogether, especially dwarven ale.  It was very potent, especially to those who were not accustomed to it.  Lalaithion learned his lesson quickly, as the dwarf easily bested him without even a hint of drunkenness, even whilst Lalaithion fell so deeply into a dead snore that he slept with his eyes closed.  We all had a good laugh at his expense, even more so the next morning when he awoke with a splitting headache and a disposition even worse than a Balrog with a toothache.

I spent most of my time in the company of Fânwen and Glís.  They liked each other right away.  Legolas began to call us "partners in crime" because we were together so much, laughing and talking.  It fell into a sort of pattern, a very comfortable, easy relationship I enjoyed very much.  It was as if Fânwen and I had known Glís our whole lives.  She was easy-going and good-natured, and as I found out, several years younger than her gruff husband.  I found myself wondering several times how she had ended up with Gloin, as their personalities were vastly different, but when I noticed the look in her eyes when she saw him, that look of utter devotion, longing, and love that I knew all so well, I understood.  

They were as madly in love with each other as Legolas and I were, and like us, did not care who knew it.  They were very affectionate with each other—Gloin was even playful with her.  Whenever they were together they were always holding hands or kissing.  It made me smile just to be around them, especially when I caught Gimli smiling at them also.  

Gimli was complex.  His fierce love and devotion to his parents and the other dwarves was quite obvious, but he was just as impolite and even gruff as his father.  Half the time he communicated in grunts or did not answer at all.  He was polite enough to the _elleth in our company, especially to me (which I suspected had something to do with my helping his mother in the battle), but he was still rather standoffish and even arrogant to others.  I heard several elves grumbling about his attitude.  He even rubbed Legolas the wrong way; my even-tempered husband who got along with everyone.   He wanted very badly to like Gimli, to get along with him and communicate with him, but the dwarf was difficult.  I hoped the situation would improve once we reached our destination._

********

We reached the furthest guard tower from the city during the afternoon of the third day.  Elladan had a messenger ride ahead to relay our safe arrival.  After that the going was smooth and very fast, everyone very eager to finally arrive at the Last Homely House.  As we reached the stables and dismounted, I heard Tasarë's stomach grumble quite audibly.  

"Someone is hungry," a deep voice came from behind me as I helped a groom lead Dîndal into her stall.  I turned around quickly only to see the Lord himself standing there, a small smile present on his ageless features.  He stood in robes of blue and white, his arms folded, his hair pulled away from his face.  A sense of awe seemed to overtake everyone standing in the stables.  Ada was intimidating and ageless himself, but he did not possess the sense of melancholic awareness that Lord Elrond did.  Elrond's grey eyes betrayed endless amounts of what his impassive face could not: endless amounts of thousands of year's worth of experience.  Much of that experience was mired in grief; it far outweighed the happy times.  A living legend stood before us; we were taught as toddlers of Elrond and his mortal brother Elros.  His parents had played an enormous part in the epic of the Silmarils.  Elrond had been at the Last Alliance to witness the death of Gil-galad and council Ada when his own adar Oropher was slain.  

In his eyes I saw the departed Celebrían, the love of his life, she who had been so lovely and kind to everyone she knew, including the naughty princes and shy princess of Mirkwood, whom she had visited with so often.  In just that split second I found myself missing her, wishing she too was there to greet us.  How devastated my own Nana had been when Celebrían had sailed.  How devastated we all had been to lose such a beautiful perfect creature.  I saw in Elrond's eyes that he still missed her every day.  He was biding his time until he too could sail, to be in Valinor with his beloved.

His daughter Arwen stood next to him, utterly luminous in a flowing pale gown, her dark hair contrasting perfectly with its color.  Elrond glanced at her, and I saw even more in his face.  I saw the fierce love and devotion that had always been there for the one who so resembled him, but I also saw another bit of melancholy.  My earlier guess had been right.  He was very glad that Arwen had chosen someone, but he very much disagreed with her choice, though he loved Estel with all his heart.  

As I had remarked many times before upon seeing the Lord of Imladris, I was glad that I was not in his place.  I did not know how one person could stand everything that he had been through, everything that he would probably go through yet, and still be as confident, regal, and kind as he was.  He genuinely cared about all creatures of Middle-earth, including Men, whom many elves wanted no quarrel with.  He carried all this great weight on his shoulders with no complaints or regrets.  I respected and admired him more than I can even say, as every person that I have ever known has also.  All this came from one look into Lord Elrond's eyes, one glimpse into his soul.  

"I think we are all hungry, my Lord," I said, stepping forward.  All elves in our party greeted Elrond and Arwen in the formal manner, then Legolas and I stepped forward to embrace them.  

"It has been much too long," Arwen said, hugging me tightly and smiling.  Over her shoulder I saw Gloin step forward with a rare smile on his face, to embrace Lord Elrond.  

"Aye, it has," I replied.  "It seems you have _much to tell me."  I winked at her and she colored slightly.  _

"Yes, after you have all eaten and been refreshed," Lord Elrond said.  "I am sure you are anxious to get out of those travelling clothes."

"We certainly are!  Ugh!" Fânwen replied, eliciting a laugh from the whole group.  

Elrond turned and gestured to someone I had not noticed before, Erestor, one of his head councillors.  "Erestor, will you please show the Greenwood party to their chambers?"  

"Yes, my Lord," Erestor said, smiling as Legolas came forward to greet him.  

Our party began to follow Erestor as Lord Elrond took the dwarves in another direction.  As always I marvelled at the intricate open architecture of the city.  Mirkwood's palace was actually carved into a cave, but it was still a palace.  It did not have the sense of peace and home that Imladris had.  

"So Erestor," Legolas began as the elf showed everyone to their rooms.  "Any word from Lord Glorfindel or Estel?"

"I am afraid not," the dark-haired elf replied, with a sigh.  "There has been no word at all for days.   Lord Elrond is beside himself.  I believe he is going to send the twins out again tomorrow, after they have rested."

"I hope they find them soon," Fânwen said softly.  

"You mean you hope they find _him_ soon," Lalaithion said, smirking.  

"Stop it you two," Menellion said before his wife reacted in a rash manner.  

Even Erestor smiled at all of this.  He probably saw it all the time, I mused.  In my mind's eye I could see plenty of maidens swooning over the blonde elf-lord.  Erestor probably teased him endlessly, not that he did not deserve it.  Still, I of course hoped he was all right.  Glorfindel of Gondolin, the mighty Balrog-slayer all little elves learned about almost as soon as they could walk, was a mysterious, jovial elf who almost rivalled Lord Elrond in age and experience.  I was confident he would return, hopefully with the hobbits and Estel all in one piece.  If anyone could find them, it was he.  

Erestor took everyone to his or her rooms, Legolas and I last.  We were staying in the same chambers we always stayed in, just down the hall from the twins and Arwen.  This got us into trouble many times when we were small, as the temptation to sneak out at night had been too great to resist.  I had usually slept in Arwen's room whilst Legolas and my brothers had slept in this room, but usually the boys woke us up in the night to get up to mischief.  Now that we were older and married, the familiar room had been converted to accommodate us.  A double bed replaced the twin beds that had once occupied the room.  There was a small closet and a vanity to place our things.  A door to the left led to our washroom, where someone had already brought up a fresh tub of water for us both.  Doors led to a balcony overlooking the practice fields and archery range.  It was a nice, homely room, one in which we always felt welcome.  

Erestor left us to our own devices, promising dinner in an hour.  I could sense how tired my husband was, because I was also.  Legolas went immediately to the bed as I began to unpack our things.  He sat and untied his boots, pulling them off with effort and wriggling his toes afterward.

"I think my boots are too small," he said with a grimace.  My feet are killing me."  He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes for a moment.  

"We will get you a new pair," I said as I hung up his formal robes in the closet.  "You should wash now, they want us in an hour."  

He sat up slowly with a tired groan.  "Do I have to, 'Nana'?" he whined, grinning.

I picked up a pillow and hit him with it.  "Yes you do, now get in there so I can go after you."  

"Who says you have to go _after_ me?" he asked, raising a brow mischievously, leaning forward to place his elbows on his thighs.  "There is enough water in there for two."  

I regarded his face a moment.  It had been a long, long trip and a very long time since we had been alone like this, but at the moment, practicality should reign.  "Darling," I said carefully.  "I am exhausted and so are you.  If we both go in there together, we probably will not make it down to dinner, and considering the circumstances, I do not think that is such a good idea."  

His face took on a look of mock-hurt; he knew I was right but could not resist teasing.  "Why do you have to be so practical all the time?"  

"Because _one_ of us has to be!"  

He laughed, shaking his head as he stood up.  "You are right, as usual.  Come here."  

He drew me into his tight embrace and I allowed him to kiss me lightly.  He knew I was teasing him as much as he was teasing me.  If there was a practical person the world, it was he, and we both knew it.  He had done many irrational things, especially when he began trying to court me, but a more practical elf, one could not find.  He was jovial, mischievous and rotten sometimes even, but he took ceremony and duty very seriously.  He was very practical when he knew more pressing matters were at hand, but he teased me because he knew I enjoyed it and he knew I would do it to him right back.  I supposed this was something that kept our relationship healthy.  I knew that before Fânwen's emergence back into society, Menellion had not dared ridicule or tease his wife in any way, and their relationship had been strained and tense to the point of exasperation.  Now that she was more open and all right with it, I had begun to see them being more playful with each other, more teasing and fun.  And now that we had entered Imladris and would eventually find out just how grave the world's situation would become, they needed these moments; _we needed them.  Little things like this would keep us sane.  _

I reached up to smooth some hair out of his face, smiling as he smiled back.  Then I swatted him on the backside with the pillow I was still holding, making him jump slightly.  "Go, and hurry up so I can wash too.  I feel filthy."  

"Yes, 'Nana'," he said again, then bounded into the washroom.  

I shook my head and finished putting away our things, only slowly because I knew he would take forever freshening up.  He always did—he was worse than a maiden that way.  He got it honestly though: Ada was worse than he and Mellossë was close.  I could remember a banquet at home once, when Nana, utterly exasperated because a male blonde of the house of Oropher occupied every washroom in the house and our guests were arriving in twenty minutes, had purposely tipped over a candle in the foyer and set some curtains on fire.  She ran through the palace screaming "Fire!  Fire!" at the top of her lungs, scaring Ada and his sons so badly that they ran out of the washrooms in towels and nothing else with soap still in their hair.  During the confusion that ensued, she, Arahil, and I were able to run into the washrooms to get ready whilst naked Ada, Legolas, and Mellossë pounded on the doors, the fire having been just a small flame that was put out in less than a minute.  Needless to say, the three had attended the banquet that night with wet hair and nasty tempers, as Nana, Arahil and I had to stifle laughter and endure their glares all evening.  

"That was definitely _not _funny," Legolas yelled from the washroom, sloshing in the tub. I laughed out loud.  

********

Miraculously, Legolas was ready to go an hour later and so was I.  He had dressed in his forest green formal robes, his hair braided expertly on the back and sides, done by me of course.  I was back in a gown, and very glad of it.  I had been getting very tired of my travelling tunic, especially since the battle with the orcs had left me without a spare.  It was getting rather nasty, so I was quite glad to be back in my pale green formal dress with my hair pulled up off of my neck.  The bath had been so wonderful I had not wanted to leave, though of course duty called.

As we walked out of our chambers, I linked my arm with his.  We went slowly, admiring the emerging stars outside as well as the calm voices in the trees.  Someone was always singing in Imladris, singing beautiful, melancholy songs of the days of old.  It was another little thing I looked forward to every time we traveled there.

We were just outside the dining hall when I heard someone start behind us in surprise.  "Well bless my heart," came the soft voice.  

Legolas and I both turned to see a very short creature no more than three feet tall, with whitening hair and a slight stoop to his small form.  He was leaning on a cane, shuffling his hairy, bare feet as he came toward us.  His trousers ended just below his knees, giving us an even better look at those feet.  A broad smile played across his creaked features, giving him a wizened, gentlemanly look that quite suited him, considering who he was.  

"Bilbo?" Legolas said, a smile immediately filling his face.  

"Master Legolas, my lad, yes it's me," Bilbo Baggins said with a little laugh as he crossed the distance and bear-hugged my husband so hard that Legolas gave a little "oof" before bending down to embrace the hobbit himself.  

"You look wonderful!" Bilbo said.  "Even taller and more handsome than the last time I saw ye, I swear."  He chuckled at Legolas' blush, then turned to see me.  "Well praise be the stars in the sky," he said, a hand over his heart.  "Might this vision of loveliness before me be the Lady Sorayaiel?"  

"It is I," I said, with a smile and a little curtsy, blushing at his gallantry and flattery.  "It is wonderful to see you, Master Baggins."  

"Not as wonderful as it is for me to see you, I'd reckon," Bilbo said.  "Has this husband of yours been up to any rascally mischief since the last I saw you?  I remember my last trip to Mirkwood your father wasn't very pleased with you."  

Legolas and I laughed.  Last time Bilbo had seen Legolas had been the day he had departed from Mirkwood after the Battle of the Five Armies to return home to the Shire.  Ada had been furious at Legolas for some rash actions committed during the fighting and had not bothered to take it out on his son in private.  Bilbo and I had tried to warn Legolas beforehand not to evoke Ada's wrath, but in a rare moment of irrationality he had not listened and had to suffer the consequences, which I must say were a little amusing to Bilbo and myself, though definitely not to Legolas.  The incident had endeared Legolas to Bilbo ever since.

"For the most part, he has managed to keep himself out of trouble," I replied, winking at my husband, who rolled his eyes at me.  

Bilbo laughed his loud, boisterous laugh.  "It is nice to see you two with a sense of humor.  It is sometimes lacking around here, I am afraid."  

He sounded sad, and it was then that I realized how tired he looked.  The last time I had seen him, nearly sixty years ago, he had been very young seeming and full of life.  Now he looked old, weary, and sad.  I did not know why, until Legolas thought of the Ring.  He guessed that the Ring had made Bilbo stay so young and vital, wreaking its influence over him until he had somehow given it up.  Neither of us knew how, though we supposed it would all come up in the council.  

"So Mirkwood has old Gollum, eh?" Bilbo asked, though neither of us knew how to answer.  "I'll bet your parents are pleased about that.  Though your mother probably thinks he's cute, if she's anything like she was when I met her.  How is the queen, by the way?"  

Legolas and I glanced at each other.  He looked away from both Bilbo and me, hesitated, and said, very quietly, "She sailed.  Nearly twenty years ago."  

Bilbo started and became very pale.  "Oh.  I…I did not know.  I-I'm sorry.  Forgive me for—"

"It is alright, Bilbo sir," I said, smiling a little.  "You could not have known."  

"Still, I—"

"Speak of it no more," Legolas said, shaking his head.  "You did nothing wrong, Bilbo Baggins, except mention my beloved naneth and speak fondly of her, which makes me like you even more.  And you spoke the truth, she probably would have found that loathsome creature  'cute.'"  

Bilbo chuckled.  "Oh yes, your mother was a sweet lady, most definitely.  She was very hospitable to the dwarves, I remember, so I can see her treating Gollum the same.  Yes, I can imagine it as if it were right in front of me."  

Legolas smiled, though inwardly he winced, wanting desperately to get the conversation away from Gollum as soon as possible, as he still had not figured out how to broach the subject of his escape with anyone.  

Luckily he was saved as the dinner bell rang.  Bilbo gestured for us to go through before him, so Legolas took my arm again and led me inside.  Bilbo spotted Gloin and his whole face lit up again as it had when he had seen Legolas.  He bid us goodbye for now and went off to greet the dwarves.  Glís caught my eye as we watched Bilbo run over to them; she smiled and waved and I did the same.  

Erestor came to show us where to sit.  "I see you got to speak to our little house-guest?"  

"Yes," I replied.  "May I ask why he is here?"

Erestor smiled.  "Master Bilbo is writing a book, he says, about his adventures.  He wanted to retire here so he might have access to our library.  I also daresay he wanted to spend his remaining days in this place where he had many fond memories."  

Legolas voiced his earlier thought, though in a low voice.  "So he has given up the Ring then?" 

"Yes," Erestor said, looking more serious.  "It has gone into the care of his nephew Frodo.  It is he whom Aragorn has gone to find." 

Now I understood why Glorfindel had been sent out to find Estel and the hobbits.  I think normally Lord Elrond would have trusted the man's ranger skills to get them to Imladris, but in these circumstances, it sounded as if they needed the elf-lord's extra help.  Things seemed much more dire than they had sounded when we arrived, especially since no one had heard from any of them for days.  

We took our seats, Arwen, Legolas, and I to the left of Lord Elrond and Erestor to his right, with three empty seats between them.  I assumed that two of them were for the twins, but whom the third was for, I did not know.  The Mirkwood elves sat to Legolas' left, with Nurhoth directly beside him.  The dwarves and Bilbo sat across from us at another table.  The rest of the tables were filled with Imladris elves.

Lord Elrond stood, which immediately hushed everyone in the room.  "Welcome friends," he said, his strong voice carrying very clearly across the large room.  "I know that we are gathered here under less than desirable circumstances, but I hope this evening will find everyone well and in good spirits.  This meal is to welcome our friends from distant lands to our humble home of Imladris.  We would like to welcome Prince Legolas Thranduilion and Princess Sorayaiel Dûrborioniel Thranduiliel and our cousins from Greenwood, who have arrived today."  

He paused as we acknowledged his greeting.  "Also arriving today with the Greenwood party were a contingent of dwarf-folk from the Lonely Mountain, led by Gloin, son of Groin, and his wife, the Lady Glís. As you may know, the dwarf-party was attacked by orcs several days from Imladris, and lost several members of their party.  Through this sadness, though, their people persevere.  I would like to welcome this party to the Homely House.  Though I cannot ease the pain of your loss, I can promise you a peaceful and safe stay in Rivendell.  I hope you will rest here and find peace, _mellonath nîn_, and may the Valar keep you always."  

I could see that Lord Elrond's words had moved the dwarves; Glís even had tears in her eyes.  Even here in Imladris there were elves that did not agree with dwarves and did not want them here.  I could see in the dwarves' faces gratitude and respect for the elf-lord.  It seemed as though they would find peace in Rivendell, and I was not the only one glad of it.  

"I would like to welcome you all to the Last Homely House.  I trust you will all take advantage of anything you see fit to make your stay comfortable.  'Our house is your house' as I am told they say among men."  He allowed a small smile to flit across his features, and then became serious again.  "For now, let us eat."  

He sat down as servants began bringing out food and drink.  I smiled down at the other Mirkwood elves, whose faces were bright and eager for the bounty being laid before us.  Lalaithion looked as if he wanted to jump into the bowl of mashed potatoes that Galenparth passed him, whilst Gloriavas grabbed the squash with gusto.  Legolas piled his plate high and I admit I took more than my fare share also.  Lembas only goes so far.  

A moment later Elladan and Elrohir entered, fashionably late as always, eliciting a frown from their adar.  They sat down and piled up their plates also, after waving at us.  There was still an empty chair between Elrond and they.  

The person who was to sit in the chair entered several moments later, sparking a hushed whisper amongst all those gathered in the dining hall.  The extremely tall figure, clad entirely in grey with a long beard and eyebrows so large that I never knew how he could see past them, took off his pointed hat, revealing a rather large and recent gash along his forehead, and hung it across the back of the chair, easing himself down into it slowly with a big grin on his face.  

He nodded his head to Elrond and Arwen, who whispered, "He just arrived, not ten minutes after you did."  

"What has happened to his head?" I asked.  

Arwen shrugged.  "I did not get to hear everything he said to Ada.  I know he was in Edoras, and I thought he went to see Saruman.  But I am not sure."  

I nodded.  If Mithrandir had in fact taken Radagast's advice and gone to see the head of the Istari, that was good.  Perhaps Saruman had promised to help with the situation.  But where had he received that nasty cut on his head?

Mithrandir accepted the plate of beans from Elrohir with a quiet "thank you" before speaking to Legolas.  "So I trust the journey from Greenwood went well, young Thranduilion?" he asked in his booming voice.  

"For the most part," Legolas said, glancing at Nurhoth.  "Other than the Nazgûl."  

"Ah yes, I heard about your encounter with the wraith," the wizard said.  "I heard you did quite well."  

Legolas gave Nurhoth the barest of glances again.  "I did what training would have me do."  

"And in this case, it worked very much to your advantage," Mithrandir replied, biting into some corn.  "Though I trust someday you will discover that even training cannot prepare you for all situations."  

Neither of us knew what he meant, and from the look on Nurhoth's face, he did not either.  Mithrandir suddenly changed the subject, as he was wont to do from time to time, and I found I was relieved.

"Lord Elrond, have you decided what to do about the council?" he asked.

"I have," Elrond said.  "As much as it chagrins me that Lord Glorfindel and Aragorn have not yet arrived, I think we must get under way.  We are losing time; I can feel it.  As much as it pains me, I have decided it will be held seven days from now, on October the twenty-fifth, whether they have arrived or not."

Arwen was looking down at her plate as if it were the most disgusting thing she had ever seen.  I touched her hand quickly and a weak smile appeared on her face.  

"Everyone who is to be involved will be told tonight," Elrond continued, as Mithrandir nodded.  

I figured that definitely meant Legolas, or Lord Elrond would not have discussed this in front of us.  I felt anticipation well up inside my husband, eagerness as well as apprehension.  He said, "Lord Elrond, if I may, I would like to speak to you privately some time before the council.  It is a matter of utmost importance."  

"I would be glad to speak to you, Legolas, though I trust it can wait until after tonight?  I can see how weary you are."  

"Thank you, Lord Elrond," Legolas replied, a little relieved.  He wanted to think about how he was going to tell Elrond about Gollum before he had to actually do it.  

The rest of the meal was spent speaking of good times, talking and laughing with old friends.  After we were finished, Arwen promised to meet me the next day for lunch, as we had much to catch up on and discuss and I was much too tired to do it this evening.  I also promised to meet Glís the next day.  Fânwen and I were going to show her around a bit.  She had never been to Imladris before and found herself utterly lost every time she turned around.  She was also to start training that day, and Fânwen and I wanted to practice a bit with her.  

All the Mirkwood elves made early exits, as soon as courtesy would allow.  I noticed Tasarë's eyelids drooping several moments before Gloriavas roused him and they both made their exits.  Legolas and I of course had to stay a little longer, out of protocol, but eventually we were able to go back to our chambers before we fell asleep at the table.  

When we got back to the room, it was very dark, but the moon shone right into our window, illuminating Legolas as he stripped down to his underclothes and, without bothering to put on a night tunic or undo his hair, fell into the bed with a massive sigh and was completely asleep within seconds.  I did manage to get into my nightgown, but did not bother to pull the shades as I lay down beside him.  Instead I let the glow of the moonlight soothe my tired body as I slowly drifted into dreams.  

********

_Elleth_—elf-maidens

_Mellonath nîn_—my friends (that plural may be wrong, not sure)

Responses to reviews— 

Dragon-of-the-north—I very much wanted Sorayaiel to be a warrior woman.  I agree that there aren't enough strong female characters in Tolkien.  She likes to get in the combat, to get down and dirty just like the guys, and boy is that fun to write.  It was really important to me that she just not even question herself and totally do everything in her power to help another woman, even if she is a dwarf.  Oh!  And I thought of you the entire time I was writing the passage with the orcs!!  I was like "Oh she's not going to like this very much!"  My orcs are evil, not at all civilized and wonderful like yours are!  J

Nilmandra—Glís and Sorayaiel are becoming friends, as you can see.  I also got a big kick out of Legolas' attraction to that not so-ladylike incident.  Legolas himself is strong, brave and very rational, which is why I can't stand really stereotypical Mary-Sues.  There is no way he would be attracted to "damsel-in-distress" types, not in my mind.  He would like someone like himself, which I what I am aiming for with Sorayaiel.  It is the same with the twins.  And you're right about the dwarves.  I don't think they get enough attention.  There are plenty of elf stories on fanfiction.net, but when was the last time you ran across a well-developed, detailed dwarf story?  Or a story about Gimli's upbringing, like the five zillion Legolas stories?  I think I just developed a plot bunny!  Hehe.  

Daw-the-minstrel—thanks for the positive remarks on the battle scene.  It turned out much better than I expected.  Sorayaiel is going to surprise herself a lot in this story, I think.

Dark Rider—welcome and thanks for the kind comment!  Here's another chapter for you.

Also a very special thanks to daw the minstrel, Nilmandra, dragon-of-the-north, and Sandy for reviewing In the Garden.  I cannot wait to finish this story because I have so much of the plot floating around in my head.  And I don't want to work on both of them at the same time cause my GOD…lol.  This one is already turning into the epic from hell and I don't think I want two of them on my hands at the same time.  

Next chapter…Arwen reveals a lot, the hobbits arrive, Lord Glorfindel is a great cook, and Legolas and Sorayaiel both seek advice from Elrond, plus lots more.     


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